


The Refrain Saga

by Zee_Cupake



Series: Refrain Saga [1]
Category: BnHA, Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Midnight and Snipe are there, Not really Enough to be listed though, Other, Slow Burn, There is a good ending and a bad ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zee_Cupake/pseuds/Zee_Cupake
Summary: Being a working adult and a Vigilante is hard work. You have to work hard, get enough hours to pay your bills AND worry about keeping your identity safe from the heroes and police you occasionally beat to the bad-guy. You need every hour of off-time you can get... But it all goes south when you inadvertently use your quirk to save a handful of people in a shopping center, drawing in the unwanted attention of the loudest mouth hero ever; Present Mic.Now you live in constant fear that Present Mic himself is going to out your civilian identity to the authorities- but he seems less than interested in that. In fact, he seems more than willing to spend time with you. Talk things out...... Just what on earth is he up to?





	1. Backlash

****

You were a vigilante.

Worse comes to worse- you were a little shit on both sides of the morality pond. Too willing to break the rules if it meant doing a good thing on the hero end, too non-violent and order-loving on the villain’s side. Most of the time it didn’t come down to that, though. Most of your vigilantism consisted of small things. Looking online on hidden forums, stopping quirks from causing too much damage, and dropping tips to pros when you didn’t get the chance to actually help…

But outside of your life as a vigilante, you were just…. Normal. You went to work, you drank coffee, had lunch with your family and friends and paid your bills. You had a nice life, and aside from the few typical complaints one would normally have about their normal life; you wanted it to stay that way, so any time you did any of your crime-fighting you wore a disguise.

You weren’t even thinking about your part-time “job” when you were in the second-hand bookstore, you were just perusing the slightly musty scented paperbacks which lined the shelves. A few other customers were here, and it was almost perfectly quiet except the occasional sounds of footsteps and the doorbell ringing as people came and went as they pleased.

It was all relatively peaceful inside, and so far it was a peaceful early afternoon. The only cares you had in the world was the hum-to-drum of your daily life…

That was… Until you made your way outside.

Not a few moments were you outside when you were nearly knocked over by nearby shoppers as they stampeded past you, screaming. The cries were unmistakable- they were running from someone. A villain of some sort.

You gasped as you looked over your shoulder. A few civilians had stayed behind in an attempt to either drag off other bystanders as the assailant thrashed about, knocking over a kiosk as his partners made off with a few small cash registers. A petty, but noisy crime it was—one that was about to turn very violent, very soon.

In front of a myriad of people were trying to shout orders- one hit your ears. **“Just get out of here! Don’t worry about it, pros will be here soon!”** It was sound advice- for someone who wasn’t strong enough to stave off the villains…. You would have rushed into help, yourself… But here you stood in your Sunday best, without a disguise… You had no choice but to retreat for now and let someone else take care of this.

You turned heel with your book back and began to follow after the herd of people in an attempt to flee, but your sense of justice caused you to look over your shoulder to get a solid look at the one making the mess of the kiosk. You’d hunt him down later, maybe tip off the heroes to get them behind bars faster. All hopes for that left your mind when you watched the brute power-slam the two men who were standing by.

Forget running away- you had to help!

You dropped your book bag and took off running full-sprint at the villain, taking a moment to make sure your quirk was activated.

 **“Wait a moment!”** one of the men shouted as you came close to the villain, grabbing their attention in the process.

 **“Wanna play, little twerp?!”** the villain asked, rearing back as he prepared a punch with a large, nobby fist. It looked like a common strength-enhancing mutation quirk and nothing more, and judging that the last two men made it pretty alright—you could live with being hit a few times before you’d be in terrible trouble.

You stopped right before the villain punched you- but you were right. You felt his fist make contact with the side of your face- absorbing about a quarter of his initial power. You fell backwards to the ground and watched as he too fell back and away.

That was the wonder that was your quirk; Backlash. Any force that was thrown at you could be thrown back at three quarters of its original force, but you absorbed the other quarter. What’s more is that it took about half a minute before your body was ready to take absorbing more. Until then- you had to deal with the brunt force of any attacks that came your way.

You scrambled away and shoved yourself to your feet as the villain tried, too. They still seemed to be in shock about getting hit again- but they quickly seemed to understand.

 **“Trying to play hero are you?”** they asked as they staggered to their feet, cracking their knuckles. Their arms got bigger as bony knuckles became spiky spurs. **“That’s okay. You don’t look you can take THAT many hits.”** Maybe you had used your quirk too early. You weren’t great at fighting people who could just dish out damage left and right, and there was no way you could take him down on your own.

With no time to retort you turned tail again and you would have begun immediately looking for an out- instead finding yourself running right into a bony collar-bone. One of the two men from earlier was standing right behind you and you had run into him, clapping his hands over the sides of your ears. He pressed you further under his chin, close enough to smell the cheap cologne he used as you felt him take a deep breath and let out a belting scream unlike any you had ever heard before.

Moments after you found yourself released, the only sign of the man had ever been in front of you was the still pungent smell of cologne in your nose and the tingling of your ears from having been plugged. When you looked behind you- you noticed that the man was faring quite well. After belting out something at the top of his lungs he ran and punched the villain in the jaw- causing the mutated figure to come crashing down.

Then you noticed something. Something shameful, that you should have realized if you were on top of your a-game. This quirk was familiar- and the man this fellow had been helping earlier was now far gone.

He wasn’t telling the man to leave because they were in danger. He was telling that man to leave because he was a pro-hero… A pro hero whose voice was literally his weapon.

Present Mic.

You probably should have run then- but fear overtook you as your eyes searched your pro helper out… The slight frame, the blond hair… You even remember seeing the faintest amount of facial hair. Sure, perhaps his hair was down, and he looked a lot… Skinnier without his directional microphone... He must have been expecting a robbery, but it would have been hard to recognize him unless you were specifically looking for him.

Moments later you heard another loud noise- one you could easily recognize as a gunshot- multiple rang through the air… More pros- more named. The figure of Snipe came running from the other direction, and Present Mic simply waved as Snipe quickly cuffed the other ruffians.

You should have run.

You should have just run when you realized Present Mic was there. No one would have blamed you- but now anxiety gripped your stomach. You weren’t in a disguise- but surely if you could recognize Present Mic he’d be able to recognize you.

Maybe… You should just go…

You slowly turned from the scene, looking back to your bag of purchased books and slowly ambled, trying not to grab any attention from either of the Pros. Just as your fingers reached the handle-straps of your bag, though it had been apparent you’d get no such luck.

 **“Hey hey!”** a loud, but enthusiastic voice half sang as the off-day voice hero approached you. **“That was pretty quick thinkin’, Listener!”** He gave you a double-thumbs up. “ **So sorry your shopping trip was ruined!”**

You had no idea if you were supposed to respond, let alone how… So you didn’t before he did.

 **“Woah, that was pretty tense, wasn’t it?”** he asked you, rhetorically this time. **“Are you alright? You seem pretty shaken up.”** You watched as he peaked over his relatively normal shades for a moment. **“AH!”** he placed his fist in an outstretched palm. **“You also got hit in the face, right? You good?”**

You were letting yourself shake now. You didn’t like the idea of going into a fight unprepared, without your disguise and in front of heroes. You could go to jail yourself… But he’d consider it shock from that event.

 **“Woah woah woah!”** he said, holding up his hands. **“You need to take a moment?! Take a sit down? See a doctor?”**

You shook your head, and he looked nervously between you and back behind him. **“Hey-hey, Snipppe?”** he asked, trotting off for a moment.

This was your chance. You could walk off and it would all be fine. You slowly ambled picked up your bag one last time and began to walk off before the sound of footsteps following quickly behind you. **“Hey, wait up.”** His voice was softer now, but it still carried the gravitas he had from before. He was purposefully acting like he was dealing with someone who had experienced a traumatic experience.

**“I’m worried you’re gunna faint. You need to sit down somewhere.”**

**“I- I,”** you stuttered. **“I’m fine.”**

 **“You’re shaking like a leaf,”** he pointed out. **“C’mon. There’s a coffee place not far away. Let’s get some water in you! Or at least some ice for your face… My treat!”**

You wanted to fight against him- you wanted to insist you were fine. But at this rate if you pressed he may have tried to get you to a hospital, and that was the last thing you needed. You nodded, not too keen on talking to him at the moment. You worried anything that you said could incriminate you.

 **“Here,”** he said, gently brushing his fingers against your hand. The one holding your books, which he took without your resistance. **“C’mon. You shouldn’t be carrying anything right now. I’m off today, and dealing with the police is such a bore. Think of it as pay-back for distracting the villain.”** You felt a friendly, supportive arm around your shoulder as the two of you slowly walked off of that street and to the coffee shop he had mentioned before.

It was relatively empty when you got there, save the person at the counter who had been blissfully ignorant to the chaos just a few hundred meters away. They welcomed the two of you in and Present Mic replied cheerfully as he escorted you to one of the smaller booths with a clearer view outside.

“ **You want some water? Or would you like some coffee?”** he asked.

 **“U-um…”** you fiddled nervously. **“J-just water is fine.”**

He nodded with a smile and moments later returned from the counter with two glasses of water with straws and lemon-wedges hanging on the rim, and a sandwich bag of ice tucked into his elbow. He set the drinks down and sat down across the table from you before extending the ice-pack to you… Apparently he drew the line at invading your personal space here.

 **“Oh,”** you uttered, taking the pack from him. **“Thanks…”**

He smiled brightly. **“Talking! That’s good!”**

Mic noticed your cringe as you slowly brought the water’s straw to your mouth and the ice-pack to your face. It would be sore for a few days, that’s for sure, but Backlash had gotten rid of the brunt of this. You tasted no blood in your mouth, and your teeth didn’t feel jarred.

 **“I’m really sorry you took that hit,”** he said as he squeezed the lemon into his water and stirred it in. **“I would have done something about it, myself, but I didn’t have my directional speaker on me, at the time… Uh….?”** He raised an eyebrow at your direction.

His directional speaker… If you guessed right, that allowed him to point his voice in a specific direction, but without it he’d just making a wide area of affect with his voice- that must have been why he didn’t use his quirk before the other citizen got away… And why he covered your ears when you ran into him.

Wait. The way Mic was staring at you made you realized you had ignored his question. **“Oh! I’m sorry uh….”** You let out a sigh and quietly gripped the glass in front of you as you told him your name. It was best to just go along with him, for now.

He repeated your name, his curious skepticism replaced once more with his jovial and entertaining smile. **“Nice to meet a dear Listener!”** Present Mic  looked different smiling without his hero attire, and as stated earlier you wouldn’t have noticed it was him unless you were specifically looking for him. His long blond hair was down, causing the only thing to keep his hair out of his face to be the plain old sunglasses that were now pushed up into his hairline, revealing his green eyes. His leather outfit was replaced with simple faded blue jeans and a fitted black tank top.

 **“So,”** he said. **“I take it you were book shopping?”** he asked, pulling up your book purchases.

 **“Y-yeah….”** Things were getting easier. He was a lot more personable than he was on the radio- and you had listened to him before. He was pretty personable there, too. **“I was just picking up something fun to read.”**

He slid your bag across the table, trying to maintain a respectable distance and get your mind off of the robbery. **“Cool-cool,”** he chanted. **“Talk to me about it.”**

Now it was your turn to furrow your brow at him.

 **“I just want to make sure you’re alright,”** he explained.

You let out a tight sigh. **“I…. I like novels. I like old ones, too. Books somehow feel like they have more personality if they get passed from person to person.”**

 **“Oh! I agree! It’s like sharing CD’s!”** he exclaimed.

You let out a little laugh. **“… CD’s?”**

He pointed a finger at you, giving you a wry smile. **“CD’s are always going to be in. MP3’s aren’t bad, but they’re just so impersonal.”** He sipped his lemon water for a moment before nodding. **“Anyway, sorry. I derailed. Go on. What’s your favorite series?”**

You spent a good ten or fifteen minutes doing just that, talking. For a while there, you forgot about how you were just going along with this to seem benign. For that glass of water you weren’t talking to Present Mic. You were just talking to some guy you met out shopping, talking about books- he’d even occasionally chime in on his favorite authors… He was surprisingly well-read for a man whose claim to fame was his musical prowess on the radio. Despite how strangely forced this situation was… It was fun.

You stopped mid-sentence when you noticed the ice-pack dripping down onto your lap. **“Augh. Well, this is done,”** you said as he stood and reached for it.

 **“You think you need another?”** he asked.

You shook your head at the hero. The punch wasn’t that bad, and your face felt wet- but not swollen. This meant that your wound was probably just superficial. Realistically, he would have dealt with them worlds easier than you had. You were still thankful that you got this far, though.

You rubbed your hand into your cheek as he returned from throwing the ice pack away.

 **“I’m really lucky that you came along with your quirk,”** he said. **“… It pushes back force against anyone who attacks you, right?”**

And just like that all sense of comfort and safety vanished. You looked up at him- Present Mic seemed to regard you fondly, if not with a little bit of sarcasm.

**“Uh…. Yes. That’s… the basics.”**

**“… Whiplash, right?”** he asked, incorrectly naming your quirk. **“Wait… I don’t think that’s quite right. Um-… Backlash? Backlash! That’s right, isn’t it? I’ve seen and heard of some unnamed vigilante using it before…”**

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.

**“Um- I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister Present Mic, sir. I just-“**

You continued to excuse yourself, trying to lie, and clearly he wasn’t having any of it. He continued to drink from his water as he stood nearby you, gazing at you without a hint of belief in is apple-green eyes. Had he been toying with you this whole time?

**“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m not mad about what they’re doing. Hypothetically speaking.”**

This had to stop now.

 **“T-thank you for the water,”** you said, placing a couple of bills down. **“B-but I really better be going now.”**

You watched him make a face and turn towards you as you walked away—quickly changing your direction as you walked to the back of the shop.

**“Wait, hold on. Just listen to me for a moment-“**

**“Can’t!”** you chirped back. **“Water. I have to use the restroom.”**

You could feel his frustration with you as you pushed the door to the ladies’ room open, and looked immediately for an out—bingo. This bathroom had a window… It would be a tight squeeze, but you could make it… You sat against the door for a moment- just to make sure he wouldn’t come barging in after you… Luckily; he didn’t seem to be that kind of guy.

 

 

You let out a sigh as you finally found the courage to sit down at your computer.

Sure enough you made good on your attempt to escape. Present Mic didn’t seem too intent on arresting you, after you gave it some thought. He could have done it all that time, instead he was nothing but kind… At least until you calmed down.

Still, he had seen your face. You had no idea if this meant you needed to change disguises or should quit all together for a bit… It was a bummer, but it was probably necessary if it meant not going to jail.

You checked your usual forums, your chatrooms, first the non-encrypted ones, and then the ones a little more hard to find.

Nothing.

You pushed back away from your desk and thought very carefully about your next move. The fact that he knew what you looked like was bad… And he was probably, in all senses, a loud mouth. He’d likely blab to his hero buddies who you were, what you looked like…

You made another check on your door and windows just to see that it was locked before you went to go to sleep, hoping to maybe get some sleep before work tomorrow. You reached behind your bed frame and turned on your radio alarm, hoping some music would calm you down.

**“—nd we still have that one request sent in from Present Mic earlier today! _‘To the Sly Minx who helped me out at the shopping center today; you left your books at the coffee shop. Stop by to grab them sometime. Winky Face,’_ I don’t know why he specified winky-face, but I hope that means something to you, and I hope it gets to you…. Here’s Rick Astley’s ‘Never Gunna Give You Up’.”**

You listened as your face paled, and contorted into a cringe as, sure enough, Present Mic  Rick-Rolled you from only heavens-knew-where over the radio. Possibly for the fourth or fifth time since your untimely departure from the coffee shop.

… Shit.

… Guess he really wanted to see you again.


	2. Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present Mic knows your identity- and luckily because you haven't really left your apartment he hasn't found where you live... But neither have the police- which means their either stupid; or they're not looking.  
> But you can't live in the shadows forever- so you call in to make a request to a radio station.

           Half a week had gone by.

               You simply couldn’t risk running into Present Mic again. It was too risky… You supposed he had every way of finding out where you lived, yes, but maybe nothing more than circumstantial evidence to link you back to your vigilante self.

               It was too risky. Too risky to go see him in an attempt to get your book back, too risky to fight crime anonymously… Hell, some evenings you were certain it was too risky to walk out of the house. In the meantime the tabloids and forums exploded about how Present Mic kept the offer up all the way through Tuesday. Stories about a mystery person in the popular hero’s surfaced, and frankly that deterred you all the more. At this point you couldn’t even send someone to get your books for you.

               Of course… You weren’t about to actually go just for your books. It wasn’t that important, you kept telling yourself… But it was the stress. The stress of not knowing what he was doing. He could have been having you surveilled- you didn’t know. It was driving at your insides like a meal gone bad in your stomach.

               Maybe that’s why on Friday you tuned into your Radio. Staring at the monitor as you adjusted it to his channel. Music blared at an impossibly large decibel from such a tiny little speaker- it seemed to be a remix of a few songs together to get the evening going, and it came to its end shortly.

               Sure enough that’s when he started talking. He did what you could only assume was his usual shtick, welcoming listeners to their fun-loving Friday evening.

                **“I’m also taking requests, so you know the drill! Pick up that phone and dial away! You may just be put on the air! Now BACK to the JAMS!”** His sentence has barely even finished before the next remixed song began to blare.

               You narrowed your eyes skeptically at the radio as you dialed the volume down. So much show for nothing at all, huh? Maybe you had over-estimated his willingness to find you. Still, though, that nagging feeling clawed at you like there was no tomorrow. You needed to know if you’d be safe or if you should skip town. Forget the books- this was something more personal.

               With a distrustful lump in your throat you dialed the number of the station into your smart phone, hesitating for a good few moments before you hit call. The ringing felt like minutes rather than seconds- busy line you bet.

                **“Put Your Hands Up Radio, what’s the request?”**  It wasn’t him. It was a dreadfully bored sounding receptionist woman. Thank god.

            **“I- Uh…”**  Great. You hadn’t planned at all what you were going to say.  **“I’d like to request my…. Books back please?”**

               There came no response directly into the phone for a moment.  **“ _Please hold for just a moment._  Thank you.”** You felt confusion riddle your features as you heard them scream blatantly over their shoulder-  **“Someone tell Yamada-San!”**

               … Well, apparently he had put in a little more effort than you had given him credit for.

               Moments later your call was forwarded to another line, a gentle and smooth attempt to clear his voice rang from the other side of the line.

              **“ _Heeeeeeeeeeyyyyy_. How you been? How’s the family?”** You could even hear the grin on his face.

               You let out a groan.  **“Look, man.”**  Augh. That sounded so unprofessional.  **“I want my books back, and I want to talk. Privately.”**

       **“I figured, I figured!”** he replied.  **“And I’ll be more than happy to give them back, but I want to talk too. You free at five o’clock?”**

               Your eyebrows knit, glancing down to your radio-alarm clock and reading the display. **“… It’s already eight.”**

 **“Oh! No, I meant Five _am_.”** Your disbelief must have transmitted through the phone somehow.  **“That’s when I’m off earliest! We can swing for breakfast food- make a morning out of it!”**

               You let out a groan.  **“I work the weekends!”**  Though, instantly, you regret mentioning that.

                **“Oh? I could visit you on your break if that’s more convenie-“**

              **“…. No.”**  The statement came out a little more breathlessly than you wanted. The last thing you needed was for people to see you two together. Even if you weren’t in disguise. People would talk. No. No it had to be in private.

               An inquisitive, curious hum came from the other end of the phone line.  **“So… No Diner food, then?”**  he asked.  **“… Okay. Idea; why don’t you come by the Radio station in a few hours? Say… Midnight? I’ll slip out for a smoke break, we’ll talk outside.”**

               All of this felt wrong… Then again… Maybe you should have thought about this before you called. You sat, without your disguise once more outside the building at about ten after midnight… Watching from afar the last few people leave and switch out shifts… You didn’t see Mic, though… That worried you.

               Five minutes rolled by.

               … Was he taking forever on purpose?

               … Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should have left long ago- ditched in the hopes that maybe- just maybe he wouldn’t call the cops. Was that what he wanted? Probably. He was a hero.

               Finally one last person stepped through the door, turning around and locking it behind him. Long blond hair, casual attire…. No you were certain it was him, but you were frozen dead in your tracks as he turned around and took a look.

               It was definitely him. Somewhere a mix between his hero and his civilian version… He waved to you.  **“ _Oiiiiiiiiii_!”** he said, crossing the street without looking in either direction from any incoming traffic. “I’m glad you made it! I was kind of worried you wouldn’t show.”

               You gave him a hard look.

           **“… What?”**

                **“Books,”**  you said extending a hand to him.  ** _“Please?”_**  Like a bandaid. Rip it off, make it quick and make it as pain-free as possible. In a matter of an hour the two of you would go separate ways. You could go back to your normal life, and he could go back to doing what he did.

               He seemed perplexed- hurt almost- by your sincere need for your things, but let out a sigh and pulled out both of your new books. “Here. Sorry I hadn’t realized you had left them until after you snuck out the bathroom.”

               You took the books and examined them carefully, then looked back up at him.  **“So…”**

               He smiled, as though he was just waiting for the chance to talk.  **“So… You’re a vigilante.”**

                _Tch_. Of course he knew.

               You shoved the books into your purse and let out an irritated groan as you started to walk off. **“YEAH. Well, not anymore that’s for sure.”**

               **“Now wait just a minute there-“**  he said, running around you. **“I’m wasn’t finished!”**  he said. He put his hands up, but didn’t touch you.

               He smiled, but at this point you could see through his ruse- designer shades were gone left with a much more sincere-looking and eye-revealing set of glasses.

               **“I just want to talk. I think I came on too strong last Sunday.”**  He smiled. **“And let me open with this; no one knows what happened between the two of us last Sunday. Not really, anyway.”**

               Oh, that… That felt wrong. Not wrong because you thought he was lying- wrong because you really wanted him to be and you knew he wasn’t. He could have had the chance to come hunt you down himself if he really had wanted to… But he didn’t. He made it so that you were uncomfortable enough to come to him.

               **“No one’s comin’ after ya,”**  he held up two fingers and placed another over his heart. He said something in English, a vow of some sort? You didn’t know. He watched you for some sort of reaction, furrowing his eyebrows when you said nothing.  **“Well? Do I have you a captive listener?”**

               You crossed your arms and made a face. **“… Yeah, but not for long, just… Spit it out. Please. I can’t live knowing someone is watching my every move.”**

               His face changed, it scrunched up.  **“I’m not watching you.”**

**“Let’s agree to disagree,”**  you told him.  **“Just… Cut to the chase, please. It’s been a long, paranoid week. Clearly you know what I do in my free time, and I still don’t have any idea if you’re going to arrest me or not.”**

               He blinked at you as if he was unimpressed by the brevity of your earlier statement. **“Why are you so nervous about getting arrested?”**  he asked, suddenly. **“I mean, sure, getting arrested isn’t ideal, but, clearly, if it scares you this much you wouldn’t have become a vigilante in the first place.”**

               You held onto your bag, the ridge of your knuckles going white as you thought of how to dodge that question.  **“… I have my reasons. They’re personal.”**  He may have understood if you told him why you did what you did, but the truth of the matter was that you frankly didn’t like thinking about it yourself. You couldn’t imagine telling someone who talked for a living.

               He opened his mouth to say something, raised a finger at you, but he stopped part-way through forming the sentence.  **“… I reallllly wish I had gotten to talk to you when I was off,”**  he said, looking at his watch.  **“… Let me just cut to the chase— Why aren’t you a hero?”**

               That question stung. More than it should have, probably.

        **“No one would want me to be a hero,”** you told him. Your heart felt like it was being pushed through a sieve. You had to tell him enough that he’d understand and maybe leave you alone- but you couldn’t tell him everything.  **“I just can’t be a hero in my situation.”**

               For the first time in a few minutes he smiled. **“You so certain?”**  he asked.  **“’Cause personally, I think you would be a great hero.”**  He beamed- genuinely.  **“Imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t been in that shopping center on Sunday. You were at the right place, at the right time. You can clearly take care of yourself—you even have the costume… You’re just a few licenses and registrations away from being a pro! I even thought of a good Hero name already!”**

               How could Present Mic be so nonchalant about this? Had he not heard you when you said someone in your situation couldn’t, shouldn’t, and would not be a hero?… Wait. **“You came up… With my _Hero name_?”** Dread filled your voice- clearly his heart had been set on convincing you to come to the side of “Justice and Order”… Whatever that was worth. Still, you couldn’t help but be curious.

               He gave you two finger-guns and smiled, baring a set of white and perfectly straight teeth.  **“How does; ‘ _Returning Hero: Refrain_ ’ sound?”**

            **“That makes it sound like I was a hero before.”**

               He placed both of his hands on his hips in a confident fashion. Present Mic seemed to be quite proud of the moniker he had come up with.  **“Well, ultimately it’s your choice, right? But I needed to call you something. ‘That one vigilante who helped me once’ doesn’t exactly have a nice ring to it.”**

               You hadn’t even noticed the huff build up in your chest before it was halfway out of your mouth.  **“ _Why_?”** you asked.

               His smile didn’t falter, but his eyebrows drooped.  **“Why what, exactly?”**

                **“Why… Why am I here?”** you clarified, but there was still more to it.  **“You could have arrested me this last Sunday. You could be arresting me now.”**  Maybe that was even the smart thing to do on his end… Sure Vigilantes were small-game compared to Villains, but you were practically in his palm today and last weekend…  **“Is it because I showed up and you’re cutting me some slack? Or are you just trying to make sure I’m not a villain?…”**

               You could feel that grin. Present Mic, ever confident still leaned in slightly.  **“Oh, don’t worry. I know you’re not a villain. Not in your MO.”**  He held up his fingers.  **“Out of the five known recordings of you you’ve never killed anyone. Beaten them? Yeah, but only to detain them before a pro go there. You like the concept of justice so much, but you’re so soft. You’d much rather let someone else do the judging for you!”**  he eyed you up and down.  **“And what’s more is you didn’t even come in your hero gigs—which is super fashionable by the way. Ten outta’ Ten.”**

               Maybe you should have come in your disguise. Having Present Mic recall your outfit- and fondly too felt… Strange. Invasive almost since he knew who it was inside of it.

                **“I’m going to be frank,”**  he said, shoving his hands into his pockets once more.  **“We’re short on hands. Villains are picking up, attacks are starting to get more violent…”**  his eyebrows furrowed.  **“… That may be the reason why no one has really tried to stop you before. We need all the help we can get; and you kick some massive tail when you go rogue. Why NOT be a hero?… You even get paid for it!”**

               The walls lowered a fraction more. Everything he said seemed to match up with what you knew about the villains and the heroes right now. The Heroes were being stretched thin, and there were more villains in general that had appeared within the last decade than ever before… He was trying to recruit you.

                **“… I can’t,”**  you said, softly this time.  **“I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t think I could handle being a hero for personal reasons.”**

               You watched as the smile faded entirely from his face, at first it was disappointed then slowly grew to one of frustration. **“Seriously? Personal reasons? You keep running around at night bustin’ in knee-caps!”**

               You crossed your arms, holding your bag’s strap tightly.  **“I promise not to be a vigilante anymore,”**  you told him.  **“I’m sorry, but—you weren’t supposed to know who I was. I have to stop. I can’t sleep at night thinking any moment some hero is going to bust down my door and arrest me… I just… I can’t. Not anymore.”**

               Present Mic’s expression remained stony, to say the least.  **“… You’re making a mistake…”**  he said with an even tone.  **“You have the ability to do so much great between you and that quirk of yours. Why are you so scared of actually doing anything about it?”**

               You shook your head covering your eyes. It felt like it had been so long since you slept… Your performance and lack of energy was starting to show even at your job. **“I’m sorry… But I can’t talk about it…”**  you said before you began to amble off.

               For once he said nothing at all, he simply watched as you walked around the corner off towards the station with your train home. Moments after moving the speakers turned onto the radio. You caught the tail end of a relatively uncharacteristic original cut of a song in English…

      _“That’s cool but if my friends ask where you are I’m gunna say_

_That’s cool but if my friends ask where you are I’m gunna say_

_She went down in an airplane_

_Fried getting suntanned_

_Fell in a cement mixer full of quick sand_

_Help me, help me, I’m all out of lies~”_

               Seriously? He was taking this that hard? Surely he’s been told “No”, before. You’d not stoop to his level of emotional frustration. If he wanted to use his broadcast to vaguely vent to you then fine. He could, but that didn’t mean you had to take it. You rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone and your own headphones before retrieving one of your books. As you opened the front cover a slip of folded paper fell into your lap- a list of numbers and hyphens with the name; _Yamada Hizashi. “Text me!”_  was written underneath it.


	3. Refrain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Yamada having made his intentions clear; you can move on with the normal parts of your life... Or so you think.  
> But it's rarely ever so simple. In a fit of nervousness you nearly break your promise upon hearing Present Mic and many of his fellow teachers have been pulled for a city disaster and now it's Yamada who has questions that desperately need answering.

 Saturday went by in a blur because you were so exhausted. Tired, but content for the first time in days, getting to sleep once you had gotten back was a near impossible feat. A part of you still wondered if Present Mic would stick to his original promise that no one would come after you. He may have only meant it if you had decided to join the side of heroes or… Whatever.

The thought made you shudder.

    When you finally finished your next day you felt a breath of fresh air, and felt your body finally give into the physical and emotional fatigue you had endured over the past week. Sunday morning you opened your eyes with a joyful hum. No Pro’s pounding at your door! Mic seemed to be a lot of things, and being a stand-up guy was one of them! You wouldn’t have anything to worry about on your day off- and it felt nice to relax in your apartment where you were safe once more.

    You ate breakfast fit for royalty and slowly regarded your books across from the table… The books and the paper scratched with the phone number on top of it.

    You could still see the bright green sharpie-marker from over your miso soup. Yamada Hizashi: “Text me!” Even when he wasn’t on the radio or right there; you could still hear him yelling. Yamada… That was his surname. You hadn’t really cared enough to learn the names of heroes before. In fact, you avoided them any time you had the chance.

    In your years of being a vigilante; you knew that when heroes were coming it was game-over. You had to bolt out of there as fast as you could. That may be why most of your vigilantism was based more in stopping crimes before, but not AS they were happening.

    Speaking of which… You looked to your closet where the various items of your disguise hung dutifully together, ready to be adorned for another justice-serving romp. Honestly though, the sentiment was all gone. You’d have to incorporate the individual pieces into other outfits if need be.

    It was still sort of sad, though, and it was a huge bummer to look at when you couldn’t really do anything.

    You let out a groan and moved your way to your computer. Your life was changing too fast… Perhaps you couldn’t go bringing the fight to criminals anymore, but that had nothing to do with dropping tips to the authorities… Surely, that was just being a Good Samaritan! Your fingers glided skillfully over your pc’s keyboard visiting all the usual sites you hit up in order to get in on some tips.

You also, idly turned on the radio.

    You had grown more used being on in the last week and you saw no harm in keeping that habit, you’d have loads of free time now. Besides, it was easier than opening up a music or news streaming service while you searched for… Something productive to do online. You scrolled and made a few mental notes of a few suspect chats, a few strange but ultimately unrelated hypothetical posts, but there was… Surprisingly very little. It was as if all the active forums and chats had just… Stopped.

    You closed your eyes and leaned back, looking back over to your outfit, then back to the radio. The sound of a bubbly pop song was playing as you thought about early Saturday morning.

_“Why aren’t you a hero?… Cause’, personally, I thinkyou would be a great hero.”_

    If only it were that simple…

_“You’re making a mistake.”_

    You were doing what was best for you.

_“Imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t been in that shopping center on Sunday.”_

    The villains probably would have made off with a fairly sizable amount of cash. Probably. Though, Snipe was nearly on his way. He probably would have gotten them first, he had a pretty effective hit ratio.

    Yes. You were certain everything would have been fine.

    Suddenly the joyous J-pop song screeched to an electric halt as a pre-recorded announcer calmly spoke into the Microphone.

**“We interrupt this program to bring you a news alert as Pro Heroes frantically attempt to evacuate a local neighborhood in central Tokyo. A small group of villains have immolated a large portion of the neighborhood- their motives yet unclear- as Heroes from the surrounding area are pulling help and resources from the surrounding area including U.A. Highschool.”**

    … What?

**“This message will repeat. All current citizens within the sector are instructed to please proceed calmly to the ends of the streets where a rescue Hero shall escort you safely to shelter. If anyone has any information regarding the attack, please, contact local authorities at-“**

    They were pulling teachers from U.A? Surely that meant that Present Mic… “Yamada” would be there.

    A shiver made its way down your spine.

    Other heroes would be there, too. This is what they did for a living, they’d all be fine. He’d be fine.

    You placed your hand over your chest, realizing immediately you had done so because your chest was beating in frantic worry… They’d be fine. The Citizens would be fine. You weren’t needed… Everything was going to be fine.

    But what if it wasn’t going to be fine?

    Could you live with yourself knowing you did nothing? Knowing that people would get hurt- people would probably die?… Could you live with yourself knowing you had done nothing? Especially if it had been someone you knew?

_“You’re making a mistake.”_

    You looked over at your outfit one last time. The way that it sat patiently on your closet door almost made it seem sentient. It called to you, begged you to take action, somehow. Surely you could slip in and out of the affected area just to check on everyone without them noticing?

_“… Imagine what would have happened…”_

    No. No you promised… He had been, all things considering, very sparing on your proclivity to break the rules… But WHY were you so uncomfortable?

    You held your phone in front of you and looked at the number.

    **To:** _Yamada_

**“I got your note.**

**Heard they were pulling UA teachers to help with that fire. You okay?**

**Please text back when you get this. I heard it’s really bad on the news.”**

    Now all that was left to do was wait. Wait and hoped he’d text back… You could do that, right? Well, certainly you could. Your phone lit up moments later and you jumped on it practically like a cat does a mouse.

**From:** _Yamada_

**“   :D”**

**“Refrain!”**

**“:V  I Can’t text now. TTYL!”**

You let out a groan as he sent a small stream of texts your way… Called you Refrain… He was dead-set on that, wasn’t he?

     **To:**   _Yamada_

**“Do you need me to come and help?**

    Augh. No. That was a bad message.

     **To:** _Yamada_

**“Do you want me to run by?**

    No, somehow that was even worse.

     **To:**   _Yamada_

**“I’m heading that way. Do you need me to get you anything for when you get out?”**

    Without noticing you had gotten up and begun dressing yourself in your vigilante outfit- but you denied yourself the convenience of your wig and your gear. Not a vigilante. Not a vigilante… You looked over at the phone- it hadn’t gone off yet.

    Maybe you needed a few bottles of water… And some burn gel… Surely that’d be enough. For now, right?

 

    Hizashi had gotten your text and smiled mirthfully at his phone as he placed it back into his pocket… Only to be met with the reality that was the hellish inferno he was standing in right now. He let out a scoffing sort of sound as he placed the portable oxygen tank to his mouth and inhaled.

    Today had, honestly, turned rather sour. Saturday was his one scheduled “Day off” and here the villains went making a mess of things… Ahhh, but you had texted him. Finally. Maybe “ _Returning Hero_ ” was a good name for you. Maybe. He’d have to wait and see if you came running into the fray clad in your home made costume.

    God, what was he going to tell Eraser?… What was he going to tell Midnight? That this person was a vigilante fighting on the side of the heroes—but they had saved him last week; so they were cool. Hah… He could practically feel Eraser’s death-glare and Midnight’s signature thumb-of-approval. Hahhhhhhhhh….

    Right, fantasize about this later. He was a pro with a job to do, and standing around like he was waiting for you wasn’t going to make the neighborhood any LESS evacuated or any less villain-free.

    Hah. Present Mic couldn’t imagine… You showing up to make sure he was okay, despite telling him you’d hang up your cape.

    Ah. One could dream, right?

 

    You couldn’t believe you were doing this!

    Even after you said you wouldn’t…. Here you were running from rooftop to roof-top in an attempt to avoid the crowded car and foot traffic below- using Backlash to bounce in between the allies you couldn’t cross on your own… This was taking a lot more out of you than originally anticipated- though you couldn’t help but feel a little exhilarated being back in your costume and on your way to help Yamada.

    Right. Just… Think about him as a person. Not a hero- he was a good person. A good person you were helping. Or checking in on. YEAH! That worked. You were just checking in on him!… Carrying five bottles of water, burn-gel, bandages, aloe, and other various medical supplies in your bag as you looked onward into the smoking neighborhood… And a small sugary snack…. Just in case.

    You took a moment to pause, let Backlash recharge and contemplate your most recent of life choices. What… Were you doing? It would have been so much easier to stand aside and let him do his job- see him after the fact. This may be giving him the wrong impression on how you view yourself as a hero…

    Hm… Well. He did just GIVE you his phone number to text. Maybe some of the miscommunication wasn’t all on you—no. Scratch that. It definitely was not just your fault… Speaking of communication; you figured now would be a good time to check your phone for any messages back.

    Nope. Not a single one.

    You felt your chest let out an involuntary sigh as you plopped yourself down on the roof’s edge… And tossed your wig to the side. No point in getting arrested for looking like a vigilante who just set fire to a neighborhood.

 **To:**   _Yamada_

**“Okay. I’m waiting nearby. Just text me when you’re getting out.”**

    After you sent the message you could have sworn you regretted not sending more.

   **To:**   _Yamada_

**“We can still get diner food. If you want.”**

 

    You must have waited… Hours on that rooftop. You couldn’t exactly remember when you had texted him the first time, but when you had finally realized how late it was getting blue skies were turning an orangey-pink. The smoke had died down a significant amount and you spent all that time watching news streams. No one mentioned a hero getting injured, or killed… Or anything.

    So now you just sat there like a fool, feeling guilty for even coming.

     **To:**   _Yamada_

**“Please tell me you’re still alive.”**

You sent that final text as a sort of final reminder to yourself the entire reason you were here was because you just wanted to make sure he was okay. You weren’t expecting a near instantaneous response.

     **From:**   _Yamada_

**“!!! AHHH Refrain!”**

**“I’m sorry I just got done! D:”**

**“Please don’t be mad! I just got your texts!”**

    A relieved, if not slightly expectant groan worked its way into your mouth.

    **From:** _Yamada_

**“I can afford another cheat day! :3”**

**“Should I come to you, or should we meet up somewhere?”**

**“Your pick. My treat. I made you wait.”**

**“Sorry about that btw.”**

    Well now you felt the bigger fool for coming in your full costume… On foot. There would probably bet little time to run back to your apartment, change and be back without seeming suspicious. Augh… Well. You supposed You could leave your jacket here if need be. This was just an outfit after all.

     **To:**   _Yamada_

**“Let’s meet up. What’s nearby? I’m pretty sure I’ll find something I like no matter where we go…”**

**“And don’t worry about it.”**

 

    This… Was becoming a disaster.

  **“Hey hey, Refrain!”**  Yamad-… No. Present Mic called you as you entered in the building of the family restaurant. In all fairness you had expected him to look like a Hero. He had just gotten off-duty, after all, but that didn’t mean you were any more equipped to deal with it and it felt… So strange… Because you wanted to see him- and that terrified you.

    But that wasn’t all.

    **“Oh, is this your friend?”**  came another Hero- in their full hero regalia. She was tall, slender but curvaceous in all the right places and made absolutely zero attempt to hide who she was.

    **“M-Midnight… And-“**  And to her right was someone you’d also recognize… Though he seemed plainly normal at a first glance. That was Eraserhead.

  **“In the flesh!”**  the indigo-haired woman purred.  **“It’s nice to finally meet Hizashi’s date. He’s been staring at his phone and giggling like crazy since we got here.”**

    Your eyes darted to Present Mic who shrugged sheepishly.  **“I was not _giggling_.”**

     **“Yeah,”**  Eraser said, his tone absolutely monotone. You couldn’t tell if he was bored, irritated or just plain tired… Maybe all three. **“You were.”**

     **“See?”**  Midnight said.  **“Oh, but we’re sorry to crash your date. We’ll grab our food and go, but I had to meet this person Yamada’s been talking about all week.”**

    You looked perplexed for a moment, and maybe it was plain to see. Midnight tilted her head. Did- did she just call Present Mic Yamada?… **“Are… Are you okay? You seem a bit pale.”**

   _Date?_

     **“Ah—“**  Present Mic reached out to put a hand on your shoulder and lean you towards him. Your heart was racing- but for all the wrong reasons. **“Been a stressful day. They’ll feel better after they have some food in them….”**  You saw him glance to you.  **“… Right? Seriously, now I’m worried. You okay?”**

    Your legs were turning to jello beneath you as your vision began to wobble.

     **“Don’t just stand there,”**  came the sudden voice from between them as Eraser-head grabbed your other shoulder. That made you hold your breath for the longest moment until he had you sitting down in a chair.

     **“How long as it been since you’ve eaten?”** the dark-clad hero asked. All eyes were on you, and frankly your heartbeat was only making things worse… At this rate it wouldn’t be too long before you were having a full panic attack… What… What was going on?

    You were panicking… You were panicking…

    Wait… You were just… Panicking.

    You swallowed and rubbed your eyes. **“I- I I’m sorry…”**  you said, forcing a smile, despite the fact your heart was still pounding.  **“I- I was so worried. H-Hizashi didn’t text me for so long. I just—“**

    And just like that the tension between the four of you fell exponentially. It even fell in you somewhat when you saw Midnight make a small little  ** _“Aw”_** before she grabbed Eraserhead’s shoulder. **“Give them some space Aizawa. They just need to sit down for a moment….”**  She looked between the three of you. “ **We’ll go place our order. You two just… Sit here and chat, I think.”**

    Sure enough the two of them left- they were still in eye and in earshot- technically, but they were gone. You watched as they contemplated the menu they were looking at before you looked to Present Mic- his face riddled with an expression you couldn’t describe.

   **“Sorry,”**  you said, clutching your chest. **“I wasn’t—I wasn’t expecting other heroes,”**  you said after a moment.

    You watched him swallow, then sit down beside you. He scooted his chair a little closer so you two were nearly flush together before he leaned over… To anyone looking it would seem like he was just resting his head on yours… But you were able to hear him.

 ** _“… You’re scared of heroes?”_**  he asked.

    You didn’t even have to answer him. The tension in your body could be felt immediately… Yeah. You were horrified of Heroes, actually. It was WHY you hadn’t tried to become one in the first place. Ever since you were little heroes were that constant thing which haunted your nightmares and followed you in the dark at night after curfew.

 ** _“… And you still came to check on me?”_  **he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. Humor, almost. After a long moment of pausing he let out a sigh and stretched his arms above his head.  **“Unnnnnbelievable…”**  he said in more of a humored way than anything else… And then you felt something clamp around your head.

    You looked over to Mic where he was holding some sort of cordless MP3. The sound of little tumblers rang in your ears as he selected something for you to listen to. When he was done you heard the sound of guitar began to play as he resumed his position on your head- trying to avoid putting pressure on the headphones that were now on your head.

    Your ears perked for a moment.  **“… Is this…[Ellegarden](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D1aBcK7zOHgs&t=NjZhNzc2MTE4OTQ3MjQyMjU5M2RhMDM2ZDgyZDJlZmY1MGMzYzFjZCxjMFFQdW56Vg%3D%3D&b=t%3AjaN6jfFetezxNRrcVsz9fg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fzee-cupcakes-personal-blog.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F171989858698%2Fpresent-mic-x-reader-refrain&m=1)?”**

     **“Mm-hm,”**  he said as you helplessly began to bob your head slightly. **“Is this good?”**

 **“Yeah…”**  you said, feeling him sling an arm over your shoulder.

    You leaned a little more into him. Just close enough to smell the cheap cologne he was wearing underneath his jacket.

  **“Did you know refrain has two meanings?… It can either mean ‘to repeat’, or ‘to stop one’s self’.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first hints of actual romance! :D  
> When I first wrote this and posted it to Tumblr I was certain that this was a slow-burn... But it's... Really not guys. I'm sorry! Anyway, Aizawa is going to make more appearances in the story; and in fact he plays a pivotal role- but we won't see him for a bit.


	4. Skip Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having moved on past the first huge hurdle of your acquaintance- Hizashi decides to get to know you better, and you are determined to have a good time despite it all! But it's... Really hard.

**“Heeeeeyyy,”**  one of your coworkers asked from where they stood, un-hung clothing in-their arms as they walked to the counter.  **“The rest of the girls and I are going for karaoke tonight. There’s a mixer! Wanna come?”**

    It was a Friday Night. The Hum-to-drum day-to-day was getting cast off in favor of the weekend night-life. Even people like your coworker and you were always a little more up-beat at this time of the week.

 **“Didn’t you hear?”**  one of your other coworkers- a man who was currently putting security tags on some newer clothing.  **“They can’t,”**  he looked back at you, a teasing but well-meaning smirk across his face.  **“THEY got a hot date tonight!”**

    Your coworker let out an audible, prolonged gasp.  **“Really? With who? Is he hot?… Er… She? They? Spill! I want details! Tell. Me. Everything!”**

    You gave your male coworker a glower from the register where you counted down. He merely hummed in response, taking his sweet time doing his job, leaving you alone to fend off your gossip-crazy coworker.

    You turned to her.  **“Well,”**  you started. “ **We’ve only known each other for a bit…”**  you said, trying to figure out which parts you needed to leave out, versus the parts she’d be satisfied with knowing.  **“HE and I met shopping Sunday before last.”**

 **“Uh-huh…?”**  she asked, eating it up.

    “ **There was a small run-in,”**  you told her.  **“He was a complete gentleman about it, bought me some water after it… Then we sort of just… Started running into each other. He gave me his number and that was that.”**

    Your coworker smiled giddily, tapping her hands on the counter with excitement unparalleled. You weren’t really the dating type- so despite the fact plenty of coworkers would trade dates like chewing gum- your date was the rarest and the most interesting so far.  **“What’s he like?…”**

    You took a deep breath, holding it for a moment longer than you probably should **. “Well, he’s… VERY determined. Kind of rambunctious, but very understanding and sweet… Beautiful green eyes…”**

    No one could say you were lying.

_After a pretty lengthy excuse to go to the restroom Present Mic had returned to the table with his hair down (and slightly damp), with his shades pushed up his forehead. “Better?”_

_“Yeah,” you said, feeling like your heart had just stepped out of a confining jacket._

_“So it seems like your anxiety goes away when heroes look like normal people,” he said, he then suddenly frowned. “Um… Sorry. About trying to convince you to become one.”_

_You smiled, shrugging. “You didn’t know, don’t worry about it… And it’s not like we haven’t had a moment to be particularly forth-coming.”_

**“What’s his name?”**  your coworker asked.  **“Can we see him?”**

    You snorted, smiling all the while.  **“His first name his _Hizashi_ , he’s a teacher, and that’s all I’m going to give you before you know just as much about my date as I do. I’m still testing the waters.”**

    When your coworker let out a groan she leaned in **. “Soooo where are you going? Are you dressing up?”**

_“Oi, oi,” Hizashi said as he followed along beside you. “I didn’t want to ask this back at the restaurant, but… I gotta know. Why’d you show up after you saw the news broadcast?”_

_Your stomach lurched as you drew up a tangible answer from thin air. In truth, you had no idea what logically compelled you to practically run to his side to make sure he was alright. “… You’re a good person, Yamada…” you frowned. “My vigilante days are over, but I went with a pretty pacifistic ideology…” You heard him hum in response. “I don’t want good people getting hurt. Especially when I have the chance to help.”_

_He was quiet for a bit, nearly bumped into you when you stopped, turned around with both hands on your bag._

_“I can walk home from here,” you told him._

_“Whaaaaaat?” he asked. “And here I thought I’d kiss you in the doorway!” he jeered, sounding as exuberant as ever. “You’re a real buzz-kill when you wanna be Ref-…” he paused, then he finished the sentence with your surname._

_“Sorry… I’m… Truth be told, a little bit nervous just walking around with you. Even civilians know what you look like.”_

_You saw his shoulders ride up. “Aw,man, am I making you anxious?”_

_“Pppft,” you snorted. “Know, just… Well. Imagine what my neighbors would say if they saw Present Mic walking me home?”_

_He let out a chuckle. The conversation had gotten stiff since you left the restaurant. All the same, though it felt like the two of you didn’t really want to say good-bye._

_“You’re really shy, you know that?” he asked, but you couldn’t tell if it was rhetorical. “So…” he let out a sigh. “I can’t really bother you about becoming a hero anymore… but…” He let out a sigh, a chuckle of disbelief at how this was playing out._

_“Would you be willing to, maybe, let me take you out on a date? For real this time?” he asked, finally, a small bow in your direction. “Say what you want about Heroes, but you’re really heroic, and hella considerate, and I want to hang out with you more.” He looked up, gauging your reaction with his wide, green eyes. “Outside of my job.”_

    You blinked back at your coworker, who was absolutely giddy with excitement when you snapped out of your supposed day-dream.

 **“Oooooooh~”**  she squealed.  **“You’re going to have such a good time!!!”**  she shrieked.  **“Dude- clock out and go get ready for your date! We got the rest of the day- go do something FUN for once, will ya?”**

 

    Eight O’clock could not come sooner, you thought as you nervously waited, dressed in one of your nicer casual outfits. You didn’t really have a plan with Yamada, at least… Not a coherent one. The two of you had been texting back and forth since about seven. Most of them were questions related to hunger, personal tastes in flowers, and ideas mostly.

    By the time it was five-past-eight he hadn’t texted you in over fifteen minutes, and you were, admittedly, starting to get worried, wondering if he got lost trying to get to your apartment. To be fair, you didn’t think he knew your part of town all too well… But moments after you looked at your phone for a fifth time in the span of three minutes there came a firm knocking on your door.

_Here._

    You ran to the door with whirlwind speed that was cautiously tempered once you realized your neighbors could have been given a heart-attack when you peered out the door’s peep-hole before smiling and drawing it back.

     **“Hey!”**  There Yamada stood in all of his glory, dressed just as casually as you (if not a little nicer), hair completely down and with his regular glasses on his face- holding out some yellow and white daisies.  **“Sorry. I wanted to keep it a secret, but I didn’t know if you had allergies so…”**

    You smiled, a quick grin forming over your face as you took his peace-offering. “Hey, you still got me some flowers,” you told him in a matter-of-factly voice.  **“That’s a step-up from the last person who took me ou- oh.”**

    He crossed his arms behind his back and sort of swayed to and fro between his legs. Looking around, somewhat curiously at your apartment’s entrance.

    A thought crossed your mind.  **“… Would you like to come inside while I get these guys into some water?”**

    His cheeks bulged red.  **“Cool!”**  he said, walking past you as you held open the door for him. After carefully slipping out of his walking loafers at your door he stood in his socks and gazed about with his hands on his hips. He seemed… Proud almost.

     **“It’s not much,”**  you told him.  **“It’s nothing like what you’re used to expecting, I’ll bet.”**  Actually, you knew. He lived in a pent-house. Some information was still up on the free market, and he was nothing if not a local celebrity.

    He looked back, humming as though he had missed what you had said.  **“What? This?”** he asked.  **“I like it. It’s nice! Cozy.”** He said it in such a way that made you question if it was genuine or if, maybe, he was just trying to be nice.  **“It feels like you live here, y’know,”**  he asked rhetorically as he peered over your kitchen table, looking at the books stacked up on top of a hefty amount of newspapers.

     **“Well, I… Do,”**  you said, not sure if you were really meant to respond. You did so more for your comfort than his respect. A part of you still gambled with the possibility he was taking you for a fool.

    He seemed to have noticed.  **“Oh-oh! Sorry!”**  he said, holding up two hands as you walked by him to fill your sink with water. You didn’t have an available vase to put his gift in.  **“Didn’t mean to pry… Mind if I sit down?”**  he asked, already half-way pulling out a chair at the slightly crowded table.

 **“Knock yourself out,”**  you said as you placed the ends of the flowers stems as straight as you cold.  **“In the mean-time I guess we can talk about tonight. What are we doing?”**

    Now the attention was on him, and it was plain to see he had been hoping you wouldn’t bring it up. His emerald eyes looked around for something to draw an idea.  **“Wellllll….”**  He drew it out to stall. It was cute, really, how careful he was trying to be.

     **“How about we go back to that coffee shop?”**  he asked, eyebrows opening up.  **“To start, obviously. Get to _know_  each other a little more.”** He paused, hands in his lap as his irises grew wide.  **“Er- talk. I mean talk.”**

    You couldn’t help but snort. It was clear he was thinking a bit ahead of himself.

     **“I think we’re on terms to ‘talk-like-adults’,”**  you told him ruefully.  **“No plans after that?”**

    His fingers tightened and his shoulders drooped **. “Well… After thinking about it I realized I don’t… Maybe know you as well as I think I do… And I didn’t want to pick something and make you nervous again. I mean-“**  he piqued an eyebrow at you.  **“I wasn’t trying to be a jerk by getting you to become a hero… I feel like I was.”**

    Ah, so that was it.

    You couldn’t really blame the man. The last time you met he had to carefully out-maneuver his way around the egg-shells that was your anxiety. Stuck between the want to jump and throw out plans, and the knowledge anything he did may send you into a fit of hurried heart-beats… And not in the romantic way.

    You both lingered in the silence for a moment before you let out a sigh.  **“… You weren’t being a jerk,”**  you said. You opened your mouth again to clarify only to be met with the palm of his hand covering your open mouth.

     **“Nope!”**  he said, insistently.  **“I disagree fullheartedly, but I promised you an evening when it was just… Us. No Present Mic. No heroes… No vigilante business… Just Yamada and his lovely date, right?”**  He removed his hand finally.  **“Sorry,”**  he said, glancing away from you.  **“I won’t bring it up again—or cover your mouth like that.”**

    Honestly, it hadn’t bothered you that bad, but he had a point. The two of you could sit and bicker all night about who was in the wrong or right, and it would get you absolutely nowhere.

    You pursed your lips, thinking for a moment.  **“… I like old movies,”**  you told him.

    His eyes widened as he looked back at you, mouth pursed into a small, inquisitive squint.

     **“And I like reading. Fiction. Obviously… And um…”**  You rubbed your arm, hoping this would be enough.  **“I like going on walks and watching the news?”**

    Those four  little things themselves made Yamada’s eyes light up like a traffic-lights. He grinned bashfully and stood.  **“Nice to meet you, _________. I think I can work with that!”**  he chirped. “ **Coffee? I’m Yamada.”**

 

    Yamada was an open book, which shouldn’t have surprised you at all. He did most of the talking, which put you to ease. Communication was the name of the game and he had that uncanny ability to talk about things just long enough before he switched subjects or brought you in. Never a dull-moment- especially when caffeine hit his system.

     **“Oh- shoot!”**  you said when you realized something.  **“Caffeine is bad for your voice, isn’t it?”**  you asked from across the table, your coffee halfway between your saucer and your lips.

    He smiled and rubbed his throat.  **“Yeah, there are better things, but don’t worry. My radio show starts at midnight, and… Well, I need to stay up. I can have some warm water later and I’ll be good as new.”**

    Oh, that’s right, you forgot…  **“How… Many jobs do you have?”**  you asked, puzzled by the rather gentle look he was giving you.

     **“Well, I’m an English teacher, a pro hero… I run my own agency and I have a radio show… So…. Three-and-a-half!”**  he chirped.  **“Can’t call my radio-show a job, really. I like doing it too much. Can’t change the time I do it, either. Interferes with everything.”**

    You blinked, leaning in towards him.  **“You’re a work-horse,”**  you said with a decent amount of shock.  **“I work in the service industry and I barely have enough energy to do my own research. How do you get in any sleep?”**  you ask.  **“… At all?”**

    Yamada shrugged.  **“I’ve been doing it for…”** he held up his hands you watched him as his eyes rolled up to mentally count something.  **“… Seeeeven years now?”** he said, not sure on the mental math. **“Pretty close at this point, I think,”** he admitted.

    You couldn’t imagine doing any one thing at all period for seven years- let alone an entire routine. Maybe he just liked to be busy- or… Maybe was just so used to the routine at all it never bothered him.

 **“What about you?”**  he asked, turning the conversation around.  **“How long have you been doing what you’ve been doing?”** He took a sip and noticed your face.  **“Your job, I mean.”**

 **“Um… Three years.”**  Too many if you wanted to be realistic.  **“I’ve been trying to find a way out of it, honestly.”**  Well, maybe with your newfound free-time you could double-down on that. Economy be damned, that experience must have been useful somewhere.

 **“What do you do in your spare time?… Aside from read, I think,”**  he asked.  **“…. Or maybe, what would you like to do?”**

    That was a good question.  **“Well, for obvious reasons I like hanging on political forums.”**  Mostly because you were a vigilante until a week ago, but it was still true.  **“Always wanted to try a new martial art.”**

    His glass hit the table, surprising you as you saw his face light up once more.  **“That’s right! You know martial arts!”**  he chirped.  **“What kinds?”**

    Truly, not a boring moment to be had as you continued to chatter away. He’d occasionally pop up and insist that you should let him know if you wanted to talk, something about being used to it… You couldn’t mind, really. You continued to talk as you were walking out of the café and he found himself engrossed in his phone.

 **“Work?”**  you asked.

    He looked over and smiled, clicking the screen asleep.  **“Nah-nah. I was checking to see if there were any good movies showing tonight.”**

    For the life of you, you couldn’t think of any you wanted to see. And on a Friday evening? No thanks.

 **“So…”**  He looked over at you, a smile barely contained by the ever- resilient confines of his facial muscles.  **“I have another idea… If you’re willing to trust me, ‘course.”**

    Well, when he gave you that look you had to question whether or not you did.

 **“It’s a compromise, I promise,”**  he insisted before he lowered his glasses at you.  **“C’mon. Five minutes and if you aren’t having fun I’ll…”**  he thinks for a moment.  **“… I’ll… I’ll… I’ll buy you flowers every week for a year.”**

    What sort of bet was that? You questioned…. Still, even if it was a bit outlandish you couldn’t deny his fervor. If he was willing to bet so much on this, that meant he had the utmost confidence in the fact you’d enjoy yourself.

     **“Okay, Yamada. I’ll see your flowers, and raise you a good time,”**  you told him, trying to respond coolly. It didn’t really work, but he didn’t mind.

 **“Yessss,”**  he cheered before offering his elbow.  **“Walk this way.”**

 

 

    Yamada extended two small ear-plugs your way as you two walked down behind a narrow-alley-way inside a que that was moving rather rapidly for a Friday night. You didn’t know what you expected, to be quite frank, only now you were worried someone may recognize him. Strangely no one seemed to- aside from the bouncer at the door.

    He looked at Yamada then gestured to you for a moment in silence before he wordlessly gestured for the pair of you to be escorted underneath a red velvet rope partition and into a long, but narrow hallway- the sound of thick and heavy bass accompanied with woodwinds and trumpets just beyond a pair of double-doors.

**“Ear-plugs,”**  he told you as he let go of you to fit some into his own ears. You vaguely wondered if this was something he was used to- the staff of the place surely seemed to know him.

 **“What is this place?”**  you asked him, but he didn’t seem to hear you- or if he did he’d rather not answer. After a moment of fumbling he pushed the doors open and you were met with a cacophony of bright glitters, tap-shoes and colorful looking cocktails. All of this seemed eerily familiar, and the mostly-electronic band in the DJ booth kept playing remixes of tunes you were trying VERY hard to recall from old movies.

    A phone stuck out in front of you.

**To:**

**“It was Gatsby night.”**

    You looked to him, a feeling of nostalgia and excitement over you, but you’d not let him win quite so easily when he was busy wagging his eyebrows at you. Of course… You found it incredibly flattering that this “compromise” consisted of your love for older films and his love for music…

    You took his phone from him for a moment. Only to show it back to him.

**To:**

**“It was Gatsby night.”**

**“I’ve never tried the lindy-hop before….**

    He looked positively giddy, putting his phone back in his pocket as he grabbed your arm and pulled you to the dance-floor. The dance-floor itself was a fun mess of legs and arms being tossed in every direction, not that you minded. It wasn’t over-crowded to the point people where stepping on each other, or shutter bugs were holding their cameras closer to the stage—which is how most of your club experiences went.

    Occasionally the two of you would back-down tired for dancing in such an involved way and would drag yourselves to the bar- which made bright and colorful drinks in the typical plastic party-cups of yester-year… And just like that you two weren’t even really people at the moment. You were just two of MANY party-goers in this nightclub- no heroes, no vigilantes… Just good old fun and it…

    Hurt you.

    It hurt you how much you were enjoying this, rather suddenly… Having no borders suddenly left you feeling exposed in ways you couldn’t begin to describe… You were having a good time, too.

    An arm grabbed your shoulder and you looked back to see green eyes peering worriedly at yours.

    You shrugged slightly, not entirely sure what was wrong with you… If this was even something that was wrong with you- maybe it was just who you were? Ruining your own attempts to get over your hitches.

    Yamada chugged the remainder of his tequila sunrise and pushed you towards the side door- opening to a closed off off-shoot for people to smoke and get away from the music for a moment- and Yamada found the nearest corner and spun around so no one could see your face.

 **“Yo, what’s up?”**  he asked.  **“Was this too much? Not your scene?”**

    He seemed to be talking a mile a minute, and you weren’t even sure when to start- let alone where… Augh… You had ruined this date, and it had been going so well.

 **“I-I’m sorry,”**  you stuttered.  **“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”**  After a moment of stillness you let out a huff.  **“I’m enjoying myself, really I am. I’m-“**

    For the second time you saw him frown just as he raised a hand to your face, wiping off something you hadn’t even realized.

 **“Bull. You’re in tears.”**  Stern… Protective, but earnest in his observations. He wanted you to be comfortable with all of this- but, sadly you weren’t and you couldn’t just… Express why.  **“Are you okay?”**  he asked, his voice dropped a tone.  **“… ‘M…. ‘M I movin’ too fast?”**

    You shook your head insistently.  **“N-no… You’ve been a dream. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t be doing this.”**

    His face did not change expressions.  **“… Is it because I’m a hero?”**  he asked, tone barely audible to be heard over the thumping base and blaring brass inside.

    You shook your head, a little less feverishly this time as the tempo inside changed key. He noticed, and so did you- if not barely.  **“I…”**  You swallowed.  **“I’m ready to tell you about why-“**

    He held up a finger to your lips again.  **“No.”**

    Your eyes wandered for a moment, wondering if you had massively done something wrong. Hoping- praying to whatever deity would listen you hadn’t.

     **“Not here…”**  Yamada looked up into the club, then down at you as if he was debating something. Then he put both hands on your shoulders and smiled.  **“… One more dance,”**  he bargained.  **“… Then we’ll blow this joint and have a heart-to-heart. Anywhere and any way you want.”**  He smiled, warily. It was an offer- and just that though he didn’t seem to explicitly ask.  **“… Can you make it that long?”**

    You took in a deep breath, which he mimicked. Ease and tension falling off of your shoulders.

**“Ya good?”**  he asked.

     **“Mm-hm…”**  you nodded, putting a hand on his arm.  **“One more song, right?”**

    Yamada let out a soft, but nervous chuckle as he let your shoulders go and slowly grabbed your hand, leading you inside.  **“… One more song.”**

 

    You spent the song pressed up against Yamada’s chest- a place you were gradually coming to enjoy being… Then again, you were almost certain that was entirely the point as you and countless other couples gently swayed to the slow jazz song.


	5. Pause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decide to level with Hizashi.

     When you two left from the club Yamada happily leaned against you, in an attempt to make you feel a little bit better… You supposed it was the thought that count. He said he’d be fine with going anywhere and the two of you meandered off to a nice park in the dark- no one would be around and you could feel the prying eyes leave as you settled down at a bench by the walkway that would become popular come tomorrow morning.

 

     **“So,”** he said, sounding satisfied. **“… You uh… You still feeling down?”**

 

     You rubbed your neck slightly. **“… No. Just…”** You tried to find another way to say it- a nicer way… But he gave you a look of confusion and disbelief. **“… Actually, yeah,”** you admitted, tiredly. **“… I feel awful, but not because of anything you’ve done.”**

 

     **“Mm-hmmmmm….”** He hummed, waiting for you to say it.

 

     You swallowed, knowing whatever you said would likely warp his opinions on you. **“… Yamada, I really like you,”** you said. **“That’s… Part of the reason why I feel so bad about this.”**

 

     You felt his grin from where you sat. **“Gooo onnnn?”** he asked.

 

     Despite your best efforts to play it straight and serious you snorted- it earned him the first scowl of the evening.

 

     **“Right, sorry. Bad time,”** he said feeling thrown off. **“…You… Wanna talk about it?... The thing you started to mention earlier.”**

 

     You sat up straight and placed your hands on your lap… How to start this off? Was there a good way—was there even a right way?

 

     Yamada put a consoling hand on your back and leaned into you, closing his eyes and letting out a small, reassuring hum. **“Take your time,”** he said. **“And don’t tell me anything more than what you want. I don’t want to pry.”**

 

     Despite yourself you leaned back. Something about his voice when it got quiet like this made him all the more approachable. You could let him in… You wanted to let him in… And as far as you could tell he wanted to be let in.

 

     **“…My dad was a villain.”**

 

     You could feel a blink, even a small jerk from his neck as he tried to get a better look at your face. He still stayed still long enough for you to continue, and that in itself wasn’t all that jarring. Lots of people were related to villains.

 

**“…. My dad was a villain… But he wasn’t supposed to be. He was originally supposed to be a vigilante—but something happened on one of his… ‘Runs’…”** you said delicately. **“Just a guy, doing justice where he saw fit… Trying to make the world a better place…”** you sighed. **“That’s not what the local heroes saw him as,”** you continued as your stomach began to churn.

 

     **“My mom found out first, obviously. Came into my room, crying, screaming…. She begged me to never ever ever become a villain… I had no idea why, though… But…”** You bit your lip, choking on a sob. **“… Kids and the internet, am I right?”**

 

**“Oh my god-“** Yamada gasped as he jerked himself up to a sitting position. **“… Don’t-… Don’t tell me whoever was on patrol just-“**

 

     You pulled yourself into yourself, bringing your knees up to your chest. **“My dad had a quirk pretty similar to mine- just in different ratios. A fifty-fifty split of force pushed back and forward, but… There are some things it’s not useful against… Bullets, for instance. Or knives.”** Frankly- any stabbing instrument. If stabbed it’s unadvised to pull out the implement; the implement will act as a cap of sorts… But if removed more blood is guaranteed to be lost.

 

     You didn’t particularly want to go into the gorey details of your father’s murder. You had gotten the point across though. Dad was a vigilante at the wrong place and wrong time; promised mom to never be a villain… But the experience drove you entirely from being a hero, and resulted in an irrational fear of the ones you knew.

 

     Yamada-…. No. You weren’t talking to Yamada anymore.

 

     Present Mic, the hero who so desperately wanted you to drop everything and go pro, finally seemed to understand everything. Your motives- why you lived the way you did, why you were so on-edge to be around him. Everything fell into place at once.

 

**“I was… Ten, I think,”** you said, choking out a sob, you couldn’t look at him. Not like this. **“So long ago… And I still haven’t gotten over it… I can barely look at you when you’re in costume… Even though you seem-…. You _are_ a good person.”**

 

     Moments later you… Can’t exactly recall what happened… All you knew is that you were pressed up into Yamada’s chest again and his lanky legs were working their way underneath you to try and get a better angle to wrap his arms around you and keep you there.

 

**“I’m sorry,”** you heard him utter, choke out, really. **“I’m so sorry. I should’ve- I shouldn’t have…”** His voice… His voice was cracking- warbling in ways that you had never heard in anyone’s before. **“I- I just made things worse- I just- I shouldn’t have done-“**

 

     Through your stinging red eyes you looked up from his chest to see what, exactly, was going on through his eyes. It was like he wasn’t even a person. His eyes were wide- shaking as if he was looking between several different people in a panic. His lips quivered as he held you tighter.

 

     All you could do for a few minutes was hold him back and bare your souls to each other…. Just for a while.

 

     When he finally came to his voice evened out again, tears were still spilling from his eyes as he lifted his glasses to wipe away the tears. **“S-sorry…”** he apologized. **“I-… I do that. Sometimes.”**

 

     Perhaps there was more to his persona than you realized, you noticed when he let out a nervous laugh. **“… My voice… It’s really hard to control when I get emotional. I also got to train it near constantly- over-use will cause my vocal-chords to become strained.”**

 

     Perhaps that had something to do with his insane work-schedule… More importantly; was he… Deflecting? You couldn’t tell. Perhaps this was a little too much soul-searching for one evening.

 

     Yamada’s thumbs started absent-mindedly tracing circles into your back. **“Hah! Hey…Looks like we’re both learning new things about each other!”** he chirped. **“Right?”**

 

     But his chirping was different from earlier. **“… Yamada?”** you asked. He cringed, pushing his glasses back on.

**“Uh… Yes?”** he asked, warily. **“I-… Y’still need to cry a bit? Should… Should I stop talking?”**

 

     You felt yourself unintentionally frown as your hands squeezed his shoulders. You weren’t quite sure what to tell him- but his eyes were looking for answers. Had he done something wrong? Was he currently doing something wrong?...

 

**“It’s… It’s not your fault that I’m in this situation,”** you settled on- this time more forcefully. **“I chose to never work on my phobia. I chose to become a vigilante. I chose to come and see you after that fire last week.”**

 

     You couldn’t tell for sure, but you were pretty sure his face was going red as you straightened up after your little episode.

 

**“And…?”** he asked, arms loosening enough. It was finally your turn to have him as a captive audience. **“Why did you choose to find me?”** he asked. **“… Or… Choose to say yes to this date?”**

 

     You felt so strange being asked such direct questions… Question was; did you want to answer him as directly?

 

     Nah. That wasn’t your style. You released his shoulders and slipped your arms around his neck, leveling with him. **“… I’m… _Hoping_ for the same reason you asked me out in the first place.”**

 

     You heard an audible gulp from in front of you, but you gauged his reaction as best as you could… You supposed that would have been a lot easier if you were standing up somewhere more brightly lit, but… Well, give someone the cover of darkness and suddenly people begin to be a little bolder than they intended.

 

     You felt Yamada’s lips before you realized what it was- before you could feel his thin moustache tickle the underside of your nose. It was the gentlest kiss you think you’ve ever had- like kissing you too hard or too fast would cause you to vanish. Right when you’re about to lean back he pulls away and lets out a little chuckle.

 

**“Hah… I’ve been wanting to do that for… Two or so weeks,”** he admitted as his arms tightened around you.

 

     When you pull him back to you he lets out a surprised gasp, and you feel his lips curve into a candid smile as you skip the formalities, trying to find the best place to kiss him.

 

     **“ _Oh_ ,”** he moans. **“Okay. You wanna play rough, huh?”** he asked, muttering something indistinguishable in English before the nearly platonic hands on your back push you closer to him and you feel his legs shift from underneath you.

 

     When he returns the kiss a jolt of tension eases from your shoulders and unknots in your stomach. You could hardly say you were the type to make out with someone on the first date- but you also weren’t sure if, maybe, you were just a little too eager to finally get this out of the way.

 

     You are, surprised, however, when you’re under him, head supported by nothing but his diligent hand as he peppers your neck in wanting kisses… Until he stops. He’s leaning over you again, absolutely smug with himself.

 

**“Feeling better?”** you can’t help but ask.

 

**“Worlds,”** he tells you, giving you a gentle peck on the cheek. **“But I should be asking you that.”**

     So you supposed that was… It, huh?

 

**“I’m _great_ , actually,”** you admitted. **“I don’t remember ever getting the chance to explain myself to anyone else before. This is kind of a weight off of my chest.”**

 

     When he sits back and offers a hand to pull you up to a sitting position he stands and straightens out his jacket… And his glasses. **“Good. Glad I could help. So-“**

 

     **“… And the kissing was _really_ nice.”**

 

     He made some strange noise between a nervous chuckle and a squeak of bashfulness. So much for straightening himself out.

 

**“… _So_ , uh… I know you’re working tomorrow, but, uh…” **he places his hands together. **“You’re… Still off on Sunday, right?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such the long time between re-updates, guys! Life has been... Crazy. Between that, and trying to tweak the final bits of the chapters to make sure they're super-spiffy it's taken me a little while to get on with it- hopefully y'all will be happy with me re-uploading chapters en-masse.
> 
> If you all really really want to know what happens next I had posted up to chapter 7 up on my old tumblr- but I won't be adding more to that any time soon. Hopefully, by the end of the day or the end of this week this will be entirely caught up and I can focus on creating new content!


	6. Caesura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going great-- until they suddenly don't.

     There was no better way to describe those next few months other than bliss.

 

     Sunday was your designated “get together” day, but the two of you often found little moments to meet up during other parts of the week. Were you about to go to work the same time he got out of teaching? You’d go for coffee- or tea, in his case. Finished reading a book? You texted him, he’d hear out your thoughts… Was he working on the radio, he’d occasionally text you in advanced

 

**From: _Yamada Hizashi_**

**“Hey, I’m playing a song with you in mind. You up?”**

 

     The first few times this happened; you had been sleeping.

 

**To: _Yamada Hizashi_**

**“Yup! Couldn’t sleep.”**

 

     Now, though? You were having problems falling to sleep at a reasonable hour on Fridays. Your schedule changed to late Saturday evening slowly but surely, so it’s not like you couldn’t—it just ruined your sleep schedule slightly… Not that you were really complaining. You found yourself being able to talk more to your coworkers.

 

**From: Yamada Hizashi**

**“ :D”**

 

     You laid back on your bed, a new hard-cover book laid by your side as you adjusted the rhythmic thumping of _“Put Your Hands Up Radio”_ just as a bouncy-sounding K-pop song came to an end.

 

**“Goooooood evening everyone! This is Present Mic coming at you _live_ from everyone’s favorite DJ booth on a Friday night! We have another list of requested songs comin’ at ya- but first; Have you ever felt that your ‘home’ was not a place, but more like a person? What did you do?”**

**The sound of guitars strumming slowly started to overlap Yamada’s voice as he faded back into the nebulous void of his radio.**

**“ _Hopefully_ , you played them a song like this! This is _‘All Day And All of the Night’_ by The Brilliant Green. Now _PUT’CHA HANDS UP!_ ”**

     You crossed your arms behind your head and smiled ruefully. You had heard this song before –it was surprisingly short for the other songs he played on his station at 2 am.

 

_I’m not content to be with you in the daytime._

_Girl, I want to be with you all of the time_

 

     Yeah, this was very him. Rather than just telling you something in a text and keeping his personal affairs out of radio- he left cryptic messages of appreciation in his line-up like this. It kept you ambiguous. It kept you guessing if he meant certain songs literally or if he was speaking more to your artistic influence—because what wasn’t to love about a dj playing songs just for you? What wasn’t to love about the occasional question if he was single or seeing someone?

 

_The only time I feel alright is by your side_

_Girl, I want to be with you all of the time_

 

**From: _Yamada_**

**“Ehhhh? Ehhh?  :D”**

 

     All day and all of the night

     All day and all of the night

     All day and all of the night

 

You were purposefully slow in your response time as you thought of a way to possibly pitch back to him. A few moments of thought and you thought of the perfect response.

 

**To: _Yamada_**

**“How literal is the dedication?”**

 

 

     No response for a bit, long enough for him to calculate what he was going to say as you saw the pencil on your texting app write feverishly for a solid minute as he sent a string of mini micro-texts

 

 

**From: _Yamada_**

**“Depends.”**

**“Can’t take you to UA with me.”**

**“How literal do you think it is?”**

 

     Excitement stirred in your stomach, although you thought of an even snappier response. You were going to have him giggling like a school-girl at his next break. You were determined to make this as awkward for him as possible.

 

**To: Yamada**

**“I can bring a blindfold. I don’t HAVE to see anyone, technically.”**

 

     You put your phone to the side, smirking at the feverish pencil writing in squiggly lines as no texts were received for a solid minute.

 

**From: _Yamada_**

**“Please don’t tempt me like that.”**

**“I can resist everything except temptation.”**

 

You let out a snort, putting your phone to your chin in idle contemplation. Did you dare wind him up even more?.. Yeah. Yeah you did dare.

 

**To: _Yamada_**

**“Oscar Wilde.”**

**“How about a trade, then?”**

 

**From: _Yamada_**

**“I’m listening.”**

**To: _Yamada_**

**“Breakfast after you get out?”**

**From: _Yamada_**

**“Don’t you have work tomorrow? I don’t get out till nearly dawn.”**

 

**To: _Yamada_**

**“That’s the thing; I want to see your place afterwards in exchange for breakfast.”**

**“I can crash on your couch if I need to. I don’t even go in until late, mister ‘I wanna be with you all the time’.”**

 

     For a long while there was nothing. You wondered if you had broken him… Not even the ever-dutiful message-writer was scribbling away- leaving you alone in your room as the radio went quiet for a moment- quickly replaced by a new song… Funny? Wasn’t that the end of the requests?

 

     Suddenly your phone rang, you looked at the caller ID, knowing exactly who it was with a sly smile.

 

 **“Mmmmm-hm?”** you asked, sweetly into the phone.

 

     Yamada sounded breathless on the other end- the faint sounds of night traffic played behind his voice. **“I have. One. Condition,”** he began. He sounded elated- positively giddy about how he was calling you on his job.

 

     **“… Okay.”** You took a shallow breath. **“And that would be…?”**

 

**“You. Here… A. S. A. P.”**

 

     Your eyebrows furrowed as you sat up. **“… You mean at the station?”** you asked. **“Right now?”**

 

     He let out an airy laugh. **“I got to introduce the person who had me giggling in the booth.”** The sound of someone walking by on the street gave him good pause. **“C’mon. You don’t have to talk on the show. I just want you around.”**

 

     Now this… Made you feel a little bashful. **“I don’t know, Hizashi,”** you admitted. “ **That means I have to interact with people… It feels so… Public.”**

 

     He paused. **“…Well,”** he chirped **. “That’s my qualifier. No show: no go.”** You could feel his grin stretch across his cheeks. **“Come onnn. Come suffer and be _embarrassed_ with me. We can talk _details_.”**

     It was a challenge. A declaration of war… You had pushed him enough and now he was pushing back, trying to find out how much he could push back.

 

**“… You showing or what?”**

**“See you in forty minutes.”**

 

     You could practically hear his eyes narrow as he got bolder. **“… _Thirty_.”**

 

**“Calling in breakfast. Forty-five.”**

**“Okay, that’s fair. Forty-five it is then.”**

 

 

 

     You were right in your earlier assessment that your apartment was VERY much so unlike his penthouse. It could eat your humble little abode for breakfast in just the size of scale- but he always seemed very eager to hang out at your place—your place which didn’t even have a couch- but a kitchen table, a bed, and a desk and a few dressers. He loved your place. Said it reminded him of back when he was a bachelor. Looking at the stark white walls asymmetrical skyline ceiling, the various records hanging in cases along the wall, the spacious couch, and ornate entertainment system you wondered just WHY exactly.

 

 **“Come in, come in,”** he hummed drowsily. He had long since calmed down once you had gotten to the station with food, making a quick moment to introduce you to his staff as his partner before he slipped back into the booth for a few more minutes before properly coming out and introducing you- all good things.

 

     Now, he seemed utterly exhausted. Happy; but exhausted.

 

     **“Take off your shoes. Stay a while,”** he said as he lazily sat on the ground to tug his feet out of his boots. **“Restroom is down the hall on the right”**

     After kicking off your shoes and setting them by the door you got a chance to look around his apartment’s living room without much stopping you. The TV was nestled between two large windows leading to an outside balcony, and propped on top of a rather extensive looking set of stereos and radio systems. The kitchen off to the side, separated by a bar wasn’t actually that much bigger than yours, but the fridge certainly was… The coffee table in front of the television was littered with various pens and papers- all graded it seemed.

 

     But that wasn’t the unusual part.

 

     Your eyes focused on the couch and you nearly let out a yelp of surprise. Your hand flew to your mouth in shock as you tried to muffle the peep as black eyebrows twitched in disturbance.

 

 **“What’s wrong—“** Yamada was at your side a moment later and then it hit him as he looked at the couch. **“Oi, Shota. I thought you would have left by now!”**

 

     Eraser- no. Shota… Sat up, looking rather disappointed he had been disturbed from his idle nap on the couch- a few pens fell from his chest and landed on the floor around the sofa. Strangely enough, he threw his legs over the couch one at a time. **“What time is it?”** he asked.

 

 **“It’s late, man,”** Hizashi answered back, giving you an apologetic glance. **“We just got back from the station.”** You had heard it wasn’t uncommon at all for Eraserhead to just show up at his house.

 

 **“Mmn…”** Aizawa stretched his neck, letting out a few pops. **“We need to talk, Mic.”**

 

 **“O-… Okay…?”** Yamada said tone laced with one part morbid curiosity and another part annoyance. **“Uhh… Look, can’t it wait until later?”** he said, dipping his head in your direction. **“I’ve got company.”**

 

     Aizawa made a long blink before looking at you, his features were… Taught, as if he was irritated with you. **“That’s why we need to talk, actually.”** Without much time for either of you to get a word in edge-wise Eraserhead looked back to Yamada. **“You know they’re a vigilante, right?”**

 

     Silence clung to the both of you for a long while as Aizawa looked to address you. **“… How long did you think you could keep that a secret?”** he asked, tone full of condescension.

 

     It would seem he had been planning that this would happen. When did he find out? Did… Did Mic let something slip? Talk about your quirk?

**“To make matters worse you started dating a pro hero and-“**

 

 **“Oh that?”** Yamada asked. **“Yeah, I knew that since before we were dating.”**

 

     Just like that the silence was broken, Eraserhead’s gaze with yours locked- though he was no longer giving you a death-glare. Your stomach still churned as he looked to Yamada. **“You…”** he placed his fingers together as he took a deep breath. **“ _KNEW_?”**

 

     **“Yeah,”** it was the first time you had ever heard actual annoyance in Hizashi’s voice. From where you stood you watched Hizashi put his hands on his hips, take a good few steps towards his heroic comrade and pointedly poke on his chest. **“I knew. So stop being a bully! You’re scaring them.”**

 

     Aizawa’s face flickered- almost as if he was failing to comprehend what his fellow hero was saying. **“… I want answers.”**

 

 **“And I’ll give you some later!”** Yamada pointed out. **“Listen, man. I’m cool with you comin’ over, but this was too much. I think its best that you go. Home. Shota.”**

 

     Eraserhead’s eye blinked again, and furitively looked to you, then back to Hizashi’s. **“Mic…”** he said leaning in. **“I don’t like this. I don’t trust them.”**

**“Oh, so you don’t trust me?”** Mic returned, that seemingly caught Eraserhead off-guard. **“… C’mon man. Not right now. We can talk about it later today. Then you can complain all you want.”**

 

     Eraser looked back to you- his eyes were narrowed on you and you had just realized your hand hands had been worriedly at your thumping heart for the entirety of this little exchange. When he turned back to Hizashi and nodded. **“Right. Sorry… I’ll see you tomorrow… Or Monday. Whichever comes first.”**

 

     Hizashi watched in silence as the hero ambled from where you stood to the door- where he left much as if nothing important had just happened at all. The resounding click from the door was Hizashi’s cue to turn around and grab at you, putting you in the most comforting hug you had ever wanted. **“Babe- babe? Are you okay? Talk to me.”**

 

     Shaking, but not in tears yet you looked in his eyes and squeezed him. **“I-I’m okay…”** you said, trying to come to grasps with the fact you were alone again- and you were safe so long as you were with him… Although, the thought of being run into by Eraserhead did scare you a bit.

 

     Hizashi let out a tired, disappointed sigh. **“I’m sorry,”** he said. **“Eraser likes to come by sometimes, make use of my tables if I’m not here.”** He looked to the coffee-table, still littered with papers. **“Man, he left his tests… Lazy bum…”** The eye-roll Hizashi gave was legendary as he slowly let you go. **“Anyway, I had no idea he’d be here. He normally is gone by the time I get back from my Radio.”**

 

     **“…. Was this why you didn’t want me at your place?”** you asked, mentally putting the pieces together as you asked your question. Couldn’t exactly keep you calm if Eraserhead walked in at any hour of the day—it made sense.

 

     Hizashi pursed his lips **“That… Played a part in it, yeah,”** he admitted. **“But it wasn’t the total reason…”** he kept quiet for a moment before he picked you up and walked around to sit on the sofa- it was still warm from where Eraser had been but the first thought that came to your head was how comfortable you were. **“It was more like… Well…”** he sighed, rubbing his temple. **“... I don’t know. It gets lonely up here, sometimes, y’know?”**

 

     His arms hooked around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. **“I’m happy to have you here, of course, but… When I get the moment to chill with you it feels like I’m at a place someone lives at…”** he smiled wryly.

 

     You gave his main room a look around. You hadn’t noticed it before, but he had a point. His place seemed less like a place you’d imagine someone living at and more like a place for pretty photos for furniture magazines… Empty? No, but lifeless? A little. The smell of cheap cologne and laundry detergent lightly clung to everything.

 

 **“You don’t stay here all that often, do you?”** you asked.

 

 **“Nah,”** he admitted. His tone dropped to a low purr **“Even less now that I have other places I want to hang out…”**

 

     You let out a breathless chuckle. **“Glad you like my apartment,”** you said, resting against him. Eraserhead having been there when you got back had killed the mood significantly, but at least… Like this… You were comfortable.

 

 **“Hey?”** he asked from where he laid back underneath you. **“… This may not be the best time… But can we talk?”**

 

     Oooh, that tone didn’t give you a whole bunch of hope for the future. **“Yeah, sure…”** you said, sitting up, sleep tugging at your eyes. **“What’s up?”**

 

     Hizashi’s glasses were in his hands and his lips were pursed. **“… What… Are we?”** he asked. His expression twisted, almost as if it was painful to ask that. **“… Am I your boyfriend? Are we exclusive? Are we just… Really good friends?”**

 

     Where was this coming from?... Ah. Eraser. Probably… If he hung out as often as Hizashi had mentioned then maybe they had talked about this sort of thing without your knowledge. Not that you would know- Eraser scared you. In more ways than one now, even.

 

 **“Well, I sure _hope_ that you’re my boyfriend. You’re someone who knows about where my hero-phobia comes from,”** you said, not knowing what else to say. **“We… Are exclusive, aren’t we?”**

 

     Hizashi let out a small laugh, smiling ruefully. **“Well, yeah,”** he said, looking off as if it was obvious. **“But… Well,”** he sighed he worded something to himself in English. **“Can I hold your hand? Just level with you for a moment?”** he asked.

 

     You tentatively held out one of your hands and he resonded in kind.

 

     **“Look,”** he started. **“You know I really like you, right?”** he asked. **“And by some miracle, I’m… Guessing you find me attractive as well…”** He said it as if there was room for him to make an error. **“But…”**

 

     Here it came, the infamous but. The fatal snag in the plan, the one thing that was bothering him the most.

 

 **“I’m a hero,”** he finished.

 

     Your stomach did a small tumble. **“Well, yes. I knew that…”** you frowned. **“But I like you _anyway_.”**

 

     He sighed, getting used to the discomfort of that statement. **“Lover, listen to me; whenever I’m in my hero get-up you get all tense. It’s like you’re talking to a different person.”** Hizashi could think of several cases where that may have been a good thing, but in this case it was the very problem. **“I get the fact you have some hang-ups with heroes… I do.”**

     He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

     **“I really _really_ do… But… I’m a hero, too. It’s part of who I am… AND many of my friends are pro heroes, too… I’d LOVE for you to meet them, but… But not if every time we’re doing our job you’re looking light-headed.”**

     You… Had no idea what to really say. Was this why the two of you hadn’t gotten more intimate? Or, why he had to ask you what the two of you were?... You had to admit… The idea of his partner being scared of him and everyone he knew ninety percent of the time had no appeal.

 

 **“… So I gotta ask… Is… Is the deal off?”** he asked, his fingers gingerly tightening around yours. **“Are _we_ off?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wherein which Refrain has to be the deciding factor.


	7. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Game has Changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone- this is where things get complicated. This is the hub-chapter for two alternate endings. One is the Major Key ending (good), one is the Minor Key ending (bad). This chapter is incredibly short due to that reason and I will likely post ALL of the endings together- later finishing it all off with the finale plot-lines.
> 
> Just to ease some people who may not LIKE the idea of a "Bad" ending, there will be no deaths or anything close to the "Nice Boat" fiasco- just the fallout of actions the reader will choose for Refrain.

     You woke up on Hizashi’s chest at about ten thirty- which wasn’t early for you at all, in fact it was right on time for you, regularly. You groaned slightly as the big open windows left the sunlight glaring down on you and his chest… Apparently the moment wasn’t lost on him either.

 

 **“Mmng… What time is it?”** he asked groggily, turning away from the bare windows.

**“Too early…”**

**“Pfft. Got that right…”** he said as he attempted to sit up. The sound of the television was still humming from last night, and he lazily opened up a green eye. **“I guess we feel asleep while we were talking…”** he muttered, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

 

 **“I think…”** Your mind vaguely tried to recall what had transpired moments before sleeping… You remembered Hizashi asking if you two were a couple, and if you were fine with him being a hero… But what else?

 

 

_“You don’t have to decide now,” he said. “I’m sorry for springing this on you.”_

 

 

 

     Ah. That’s what had happened. He left the question hanging. He knew that your answer would take a great deal of time to come to a satisfactory answer. Though, he still seemed kind of sad. Even now, after sleeping, but soon that somber smile was pushed away. **“So, hungry?”** he asked lazily. **“It isn’t much but I have some quinoa from yesterday. We can fry eggs and turn it into breakfast.”**

 

     You weren’t about to deny the offer of breakfast from the man whose chest you spent the night on. **“That sounds great,”** you said. **“I honestly thought you’d offer me something like Miso.”**

 

 **“Nah, not Miso. Miso’s too salty for me,”** he said bopping you on the nose with his pointer finger. **“Breakfast or no; I need to get up.”**

 

     You pushed off of the cushions beneath Hizashi and heard your back pop and groan as he moved from underneath you and swung his legs over the side of the sofa. You watched his face flicker in some sort of anger. **“Augh… I have to text him about his papers,”** Hizashi said. Your eyes followed his to the coffee table where Eraserhead’s papers were still littered about. The majority of them seemed like they were graded and complete already. **“I’ll text him about it later,”** he said, sitting his phone down on the table by the papers and standing up. **“For now; breakfassttt~ How do you like your eggs?”** he asked as he proceeded to ramble about how over-easy eggs were best over things like rice, but soft-boiled eggs would ever remain the love of his culinary life.

 

     You smiled and half-listened on to Hizashi’s rambling. A sense of calm came over you when he rambled about incredibly mundane things. Maybe one day this would get boring, but so far it hadn’t… Maybe one day… But you had to be around for that sort of thing, didn’t you?

 

     You liked how your relationship had been going so far. You could understand his hesitance to get closer to you and commit… Though, it felt like he had already. All he was doing not was waiting on you.

 

     You looked to his phone and to the papers on the table….

 

**“Hey, Hizashi?”**


	8. Major Key 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confronting the aggressor.

     **“Are you sure you want to do this?”** Hizashi stood in front of you and his thumb warily hovered over his phone. **“I mean… I’m flattered- really I am. But I don’t want you to get anxious about this.”**

 

     You had long since finished breakfast, it was good to think on a full stomach after all, and it was nice Hizashi made you breakfast for the first time—ever actually. **“I want to do this,”** you finally said. “ **He means a lot to you, and you said it yourself; you can’t be my boyfriend if I can’t even look you in the eye half of the time…”** You swallowed—Hizashi had taken an interest in you despite knowing you were a vigilante. The least you could do was work on your ability to accept him despite his being a hero.

 

     He let out a pleased squeak. **“Awww… Babe,”** he tilted his head in curiosity. **“I’m your boyfriend now?”**

 

     You held up your finger. **“Full disclosure- I can’t be if Eraserhead sends me to jail.”**

 

**“Eh, I can make bail,”** he was all smiles from across the table, giddy in fact for the idea. You desperately wanted to be as happy as he was for the idea, but anxiety panged and clawed at your stomach like no tomorrow. **“Shota wouldn’t do that… At least, I don’t think he would.”**

 

     You took a deep breath again. **“Point being; I need to talk with him,”** you said. **“It’s probably best that I do it on my own… If… If that’s okay with you.”**

 

     Hizashi’s eyebrows knit in worry. **“Ofcourse that’s fine, lover…”** he said stretching a hand out to you. **“You’re reaching out to my best friend. _On your own_ … I could never be mad at you for that… Especially considering your aversion for heroes…”** He smiled, his lower eyelids bumping up into the smile. **“I didn’t expect you to want to take action so soon, so… Just let me know if this was too much, okay? Take it at your pace.”**

 

     You took a visible deep breath and reached out to grab his hand. **“… Okay… Now… Send the text. Before I chicken out.”**

 

**“You’re the boss…”** he mumbled, smiling as he tapped the screen with his thumb. **“… Shota’s got your contact info now, but he can be a slow texter. It could take him a bit to reach out to you…”** Hizashi stood and let out a yawn before he went to collect your dishes.

 

**“In the meantime, I need to shower, get some grading done and get ready for patrol,”** he called from his kitchen.

 

     You said nothing, staring warily at your phone, feeling your heart thudding and your ears slightly going red with worry. This conversation was going to change… Everything, wasn’t it?

     **“You know… Um…”** Hizashi’s blond head peered its way from around the bar counter. **“This may seem a little forward, but you may want a shower too. If you want you’re free to-“**

 

     And right on cue your phone rang.

 

     Hizashi let out a sudden, but curt curse as you picked up your phone, shaking slightly.

 

**From: XXX-XXX-XXXXX**

**“Hey.”**

 

     You let out a deep sigh, collecting yourself. You closed your eyes and tried desperately to tell yourself that you had dealt with things- criminals to be worse than this. As far as you could tell Eraserhead had no real intention of hurting you—he was just looking out for his best friend.

 

     **“That him?”** Hizashi asked as he peered over your shoulder.

 

     You thumbed your way over the number, setting it a contact name and nodding. **“Yup. Let’s get this over with.”**

 

**“That’s the spirit!”**

**To: Eraser**

**“Hello.”**

**From: Eraser**

**“I was told you wanted to talk to me. The sooner the better, right?”**

**To: Eraser**

**“Yes. I wanted to talk about last night.”**

**From: Eraser**

**“I see.”**

**“Are you available today? I’m busy, but I can cancel some plans I had.”**

**To: Eraser**

**“You don’t have to cancel anything.”**

**“I just want to come forward and talk about the things you said.”**

**From: Eraser**

**“I’m free at noon.”**

     Oh boy… Looks like he wanted to get this done as fast as you did.

**To: Eraser**

**“….I’m free as well. Do you mind if Hizashi is not there?”**

**From: Eraser**

**“All the better.”**

**“You allergic to cats?”**

 

 

 

     Out of all the places that you had guessed you’d be asked to meet Eraserhead at, you hadn’t expected a cat café to be one of them. You didn’t mind, though. The few minutes you had to yourself before the black-clad hero walked in the door were a good way to calm down.

 

     The moment Eraserhead was there- you felt yourself on your toes, though.

 

**“D-do you want some coffee?”** you asked as you looked at him over the menu.

 

     He replied with a grunt- giving you a hard stare when the waiter looked at you with a sympathetic expression.

 

**“Ch-chocolate tea, please,”** you asked and he took your menu, smiling as he ambled off to retrieve your refreshment.

 

     With no menu to hide behind you slowly brought your eyes to look at his- but you couldn’t stare for too long. **“So,”** Eraserhead began. **“You wanted to talk… So talk.”**

 

     You brought your hand to your face, trying to play it off naturally as you tried to keep your eyes adverted. **“U-um… Well. It… You seemed to have a lot of questions… And I know you worry for Hizashi, so… I was hoping maybe… Maybe I could speak to you about… Your concerns.”**

 

     You heard him strum his fingers against the table in thought.

 

     **“… Can you look at me?”** he asked.

 

     You closed one eye and used the other to flinchingly look at him—his expression had changed slightly- a mixture of concern and stern confusion riddled his face as you turned away.

 

**“Huh…. I _thought_ not….” **Eraser gave you a moment to speak up, but when you didn’t he decided to press on. **“Let’s start with that; how long have you been afraid of heroes?”**

 

     He had caught that Or maybe Hizashi had let it slip—that would have been fine. It wasn’t exactly an earth shattering secret… But he didn’t seem to know why you were scared.

 

**“… My dad was killed by a hero when I was little,”** you said. **“It… It’s also the reason why I’m not a hero.”**

 

     He leaned in, and you weren’t sure if he was regarded you with sympathy or even more confusion.

 

**“S-sorry,”** you said. **“I… Um… It must be very strange. Knowing I’m… Involved with your friend.”**

 

**“It’s not just strange,”** he began. **“It doesn’t make sense.”**

 

     That… That was meant to be _scathing_. Your eyebrows furrowed as you meekly looked to meet his eyes.

 

**“Why date a hero when you can’t even look at him half of the time?”** he asked. **“You’ve been dating for a while, he’s told me… Have you ever managed to look at him straight in the face when he’s on duty?”**

 

     Every thought of doubt you had when you had starting seeing Hizashi came rushing back, unaddressed and wanting answers.

 

**“To make matters worse, you’re a criminal…”** he pointed out. **“I know you’ve stopped since dating him, and believe me that’s the _only_ reason why I’m not turning you in as we speak… But the moment you stop dating- are you going to start running back to being a vigilante?”**

 

**“I won’t,”** you said firmly.

 

**“Why should I believe you?”** Eraserhead asked. He took a sigh as you heard two cups being placed down on the counter. **“… I’ll make this brief since it’s not been much of a conversation; this can only end badly for the pair of you… You’ll end up in jail, his reputation will be ruined and he’ll be heart-broken.”** With a deep breath he sighed out the entire reason why he had agreed to this in the first place. **“Leave Yamada.”**

     Your heart raced as you looked at Eraser for the first time since you had gotten there.

**“NO,”** you said, defiantly.

 

     Eraser looked offended, and you focused solely on his eyes.

 

**“The entire reason I came to see you today was because you matter to Hizashi, and he matters to me.”** You began. _Focus on his eyes, focus on his eyes, focus on his eyes._ **“I’ll be blunt; you terrify me, yes…”** You swallowed. **“But I know there’s a person underneath that ‘pro hero’ façade of yours. Just like there’s one under Present Mic.”**

 

     You had to choose your next words very carefully. **“Present Mic… Is Hizashi. That has made things difficult—but every relationship has its hang-ups… When he met me, I was… Still scared of him.”** You took a deep breath and straightened up. **“ _Unlike_ you, though—“**

 

     You saw him—he wasn’t a hero… Or he was, but only inoccupation. He was a thirty-something salary man. Someone who cared very deeply for his best friend. He’s just a man.

 

**“Hizashi didn’t turn away from me when he found out why I didn’t want to be a hero… Or his side-kick. He tried to recruit me several times… But he didn’t stop caring for me despite that. He makes me want to change who I am.”**

 

     One more deep breath.

 

**“So I’m going to get help, see a counselor. Pet a therapy dog.... I’ve put away my uniform for good, and you can lock me up if you want; but I’ve been trying to change myself for the better because of him.”**

 

     Now it was Eraserhe-… Aizawa’s turn to look away.

 

**“And you know that. He talks about you all the time to me when we’re out- I imagine he talks about me a lot, too.”**

 

     Aizawa’s face turned into a scowl as he took a deep sigh- tension dropping from his shoulders. He looks to face you, looking… A little ashamed.

 

**“… You said something about him trying to recruit you?”** he asked. **“… Can I ask how the two of you met?”** he asked. His tone had changed- you had no idea how he felt about you anymore… But you figured while you were doing this little bit of soul searching you could at least try to open up.

 

     You let out a sigh and blinked at him… He suddenly seemed… A lot less scary. **“So, it was a Sunday….”**

 

 

 

     **“Thank you for coming!”** your purple-haired waiter had waved to you once the two of you had begun walking through the front place of the establishment. With the tension all gone your stomach wavered slightly as the reality of what had just happened sunk in. You had spoken to a hero- an actual hero about everything that was going on. Though the concept left you breathless, you supposed it wasn’t so bad.

 

     Still, you didn’t know how to gauge his reaction to any of this. He had stayed quiet the entire time, and was near impossible to read.

 

     **“… So…”** you said, trying to cut the silence. **“… Are you going to arrest me?”** you asked, quietly.

 

     Aizawa shook his head. **“No… Not today, at least,”** he said when he looked at you, tired and angular features pressed slightly in irritation. “But the moment you go back to being a vigilante; I will. You’re a potentially dangerous quirk-user and I can’t let that go un-checked…” He pauses. **“… I shouldn’t even be letting this go un-checked, but…”** he closes his eyes, pursing his lips.

 

     **“Hizashi is your best friend,”** you told him. **“I… It’s a crappy situation, but I get it.”**

 

     Aizawa let out a thoughtful hum, pulling out a strange set of glasses and adjusting it on his head. **“We do crazy things for the people we care about. Change ourselves, change our ways of thinking…”** He looked over as he was adjusting his goggles- something to obscure what direction he was looking at when he used his quirk. **“By the way, Hizashi loves you. This sort of thing has been tearing him up for a while now. You should tell him you’re fine with him being… Himself.”**

 

     Judging by the smirk in his reaction you must have looked as red as you felt. **“Oh good. I guess that gives you more incentive to not go back to being a vigilante.”**

     A moment of silence paused between the two of you, though you were becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the fact you were standing by Eraserhead. Full costume and everything! What’s even odder, is that he noticed, seemingly. **“… I was wrong about you,”** he admitted. **“… I’d text Hizashi. He’s been worried sick… Also…”** Eraserhead pulled back his goggles for a moment. **“… I’d come forward,”** he said. **“About being a vigilante, I mean. To his agency, preferably… The videos you were in wouldn’t cause you to be sent to Jail. You could probably work it all off in community service… I don’t know. Talk to him about it maybe.”**

     Just a moment ago this man seemingly wanted nothing more than to be done with you- like a bandage- rip it off fast to get it over with. No point in getting attached… But now, admittedly, you felt bad for being so scared of him in the first place.

 

**“Thank you,”** you said. **“… I will.”**

 

     He nodded, smiling. **“I’ll still be keeping an eye on you, though.”**

 

**“Look, I think that’s… Pretty fair. All things considered** …” You smiled, pulling out your phone, then looking at the time… Almost time for you to be going to work—you’d have to be fast to get home and change… But you’d call Hizashi first, of course.

 

**“It was nice meeting you,”** he said. **“For real this time.”**

 

     You smiled and nodded back as Eraser took off running at nearly inhuman speed. Though you were a little less scared of him, you felt your lungs relax fully once he was gone.

 

_Holy crap I have to text Hizashi._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are! The first chapter of the Major Key Route!
> 
> I know the addition and change of this chapter from the last one(s) is a bit strange, but the Major Key route involves Refrain choosing to confront their own flaws and challenge their perception of who they are just like Hizashi does. That first step involves confronting one of the loudest objectors to their relationship-- Hizashi's best friend.
> 
> But the truth is; functional relationships aren't just two people. When you get to know someone you start to learn about the people they hang out with. Their friends become your friends; if not entirely- just tangentially. I wanted to add Eraserhead as a way to both bolster and play devil's advocate to the relationship between Refrain and Present Mic. Yeah, the relationship could be entirely mutual and beneficial; it could also just as well be a set of chemical reactions occurring in the brain- that could stop at any moment... And up until now Aizawa has had zero reason to believe that Refrain would be willing to go the extra mile for his best friend.


	9. Minor Key 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spend some more time with Hizashi.

     You had over five hours to kill before you absolutely had to go get ready for work, so you were determined to stay with Hizashi as long as you could- even if the majority of what he was doing was grading.

 

     For the first time you had noticed he was almost as drab as can be as he was grading- blocking everything out as he’d occasionally mumble something out-loud in English before taking a pink high-lighter to paper. He seemed pleased with your company all the same, though. Occasionally when he’d get up to get himself some water and cut himself some apples he’d go the extra mile and playfully kick your foot from under the table.

 

     **“Sorrrrry,”** he hummed- dang near sang across from the coffee-table. **“I know this can’t be exciting, for you. I’ll make it up to you in a bit.”**

 

     **“You don’t need to apologiiiiizeeee,”** you sang back. In all honesty- it may have been wise if you were trying to be productive, but between last night and the general chaos that had been the week- wasting your time around Hizashi felt like heaven.

 

     With a snort he looked back down at his work, then back up at you. **“I’m not joking, though. You got the keys to the castle,”** he informed you. **“My bookshelf is up to you. Just make yourself comfortable I should be done in just a bit. Done enough for a break, anyway.”**

 

     You idly looked around his penthouse, now knowing why it felt so strange for him to be here. Despite how big, spacious and inviting it is- it didn’t feel like anyone lived there. It was just a place for him to set his stuff down, grade, and sleep. You sniffed the air—even the living room smelled more like windex than it did laundry carpet, or food. A complete parallel from your place. The smell of your drinks clung to the wall like no tomorrow, the open bedroom in your single-room apartment smelled much more like your sweat than it did of any real cleaning product (something you were ashamed of), and your kitchen always smelled strangely of milk and deli meat.

 

     Moments later Hizashi was back to grading, blinking with a droll expression as he continued to contemplate one of his students hand-writing through his reading glasses. Even this setting bored him, it seemed.

 

     You stood and took one more look around the living room- which you had admittedly grown tired of staring at for a while. Instead, you looked down the hallway you hadn’t gotten the chance to go down.

 

     **“Bathroom’s this way, right?”** you asked, idly.

 

     **“Mm-hm,”** he replied, expression not changing as he brought the dreaded highlighter down. An eighty-three for whoever wrote that.

 

     You shrugged, walking down the hallway. Four doors to choose from—the first one on your left seemed to be a store-closet. The first one on your right was the aforementioned bathroom. A bathroom which was even more bland and barren than the living room- devoid of any curtain at the tub, and the only sign of use being the roll of toilet paper on the holder and a few stray hair combs and brushes littering the counter.

 

     Your eyes darted to a slightly smaller can sitting on the counter- a popular brand of male antiperspirant sat there. Now you knew what you smelled every time you hugged Hizashi, so that was one mystery solved.

 

     Though it seemed very odd… For someone as lively as Hizashi it didn’t seem like he did much living at home. He certainly had the money for it… If you were to guess; it seemed like he had only just moved in- though you knew that couldn’t be true.

 

     When you finished up you walked out to stare at the other two doors. The one across the hall and to your right slightly was open- door propped open by a piece of black clothing.

 

     Curiosity piqued at your insides. He had said you had permission to walk around his place- but going into his bedroom seemed a little much. Especially while he wasn’t there to watch you. Still, that black shirt in the doorway spoke to you on deep and spiritual levels. It practically sung “Y’know-y’wannnaaa~”.

 

     Your eyes darted down the hallway- you could hear the occasional patter of Hizashi’s fingers tapping away on his laptop…

 

     Surely he wouldn’t mind… Just a quick peek…

 

     With a deep breath you slowly reached out to the door and pushed it open. The door did not squeak, and you doubted it would have made any protest at all if it had not been for the wadded tank-top that you were forced to push against.

 

     The change from Hizashi’s room and the rest of his pent house was as different as night and day.

 

     His bed was unmade, laden with pillows at the head- and a few tumbling off the side from where he had slid out one side. A night-stand with a simple metal desk-lamp, a half-full water cup, and some very well-loved paper-bound books sat diligently on his side of the bed as various band posters littered the walls with tacks and tape.

 

     The sliding closet door was half-open revealing multiple leather jackets and a variety of shoes stuffed into a somewhat unruly pile beneath them. The curtains on either sides of the bed were bright maroon and thin enough that light shined through even if they were entirely shut, reflecting off of a (I kid you not) red bean-bag piled high with bags- mostly back-packs and duffels. The wooden dresser on the opposite wall from the closet was completely over-crowded at the top- completed all with an unlit lava-lamp which only made you snort the more you realized he had a shag carpet.

 

     Hizashi’s room was fun, slightly messy, smelled of more of that cologne he used… And completely made him look like he hadn’t gotten out of his college days. Strange or not—this is where he lived, and you could tell.

 

 **“Are you going to go in, or is this just going to be awkward?”** came a whisper from behind you- a whisper that was returned by a shriek of absolute discomfort.

 

 **“Hizashi!”** you said, wondering just how a man as loud has he had gotten up and snuck up behind you.

 

     He seemed more amused than anything. **“Lover,”** he replied.

 

     You let out a uneasy chuckle. **“S-sorry about that… I just…”** you pointed to the tank top. **“Um, this was in the door and…. I got curious.”**

     Your Hero friend let out a hum of thought before he carefully picked up the soiled shirt with his socked feet and tossed further into the confines in his room. You couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking. **“My rooms a wreck,”** he pointed out. **“Sorry you had to see it.”**

 

     You made a face. **“N-no. It’s not that…”** you said. **“And you’ve seen my apartment. It’s just as messy.”**

 

     He put his hands on both of his hips, straightening out his shoulders a tad. This way he looked… Slightly intimidating. **“… You that bored, huh?”** he asked. Was… Was he offended you peeked into his room?

 

      **“No,”** you said. **“I just… I got curious is all,”** you muttered. **“Sorry.”**

 

     Just like that; the tension in the room was thick enough you could probably cut through it. Hizashi didn’t say anything, he merely stood there and thought for a moment before he strode off back in the direction of the living room.

 

     _Ohhh boy._ You weren’t exactly sure what you had done, but you had done it.

 

     Then again, why would he be mad? Why should be? He got to see your apartment in its entirety. You didn’t think that his bedroom would be all that off-limits. Would it? Surely not. Tension faded away, replaced by confusion and… Hurt, almost? Almost as quick as it came though the sound of the television rang through the air and Hizashi’s silky blond head poked back into the hallway.

 

 **“You comin’, lover?”** he asked, eyebrows furrowed. **“I…. I figured if you were bored I should put something on. My room is… Sort of embarrassing.”**

 

     You felt yourself smiling, despite the situation. **“Hizashi, I _like_ your room. Probably just like you like my place… I didn’t mean to pry.”** Tension turned to a wry amusement as your boyfriend let out a chuckle.

 

_... Boyfriend…_

     You thought of Hizashi as your _boyfriend_.

 

     **“That’s _different_.”** He protested kindly. **“Yours is utilitarian. I just have old junk and paraphernalia lying around.”**

 

     You felt a warm fluttering in your chest. **“… You know…”** you said. **“Since you like my place so much; I’m pretty sure I could put my décor skills to good use if you wanted me to.”**

 

      **“OH?”** he asked, eyes lidding slightly. **“Planning on shacking up with me, already?”** he asked, turning around the corner with an eye-roll.

 

 **“Well, why not?”** you asked as you followed him. **“You are my boyfriend, right?”** When you followed him back into the living room you saw him turn back. Eyebrows pinched into something akin to concern or hesitant disbelief.

 

**“You mean that?”**

     You knew exactly what he meant, but for once it was his turn to squirm after something you had said. **“Okay, maybe moving into your place is _a bit much_ , but-“**

**“No, no,”** Hizashi interjected. **“Me being your boyfriend… You mean that?”** You couldn’t tell if it was consciously or not, but you saw his hands raise up gently out to yours. You took them. **“Really really?”**

 

     Hizashi had been the only person you had been able to talk to about much anything personal to you. Ever since you took up vigilantism you had always worried whoever you were dating would hold it against you… Just like Eraserhead did… But somehow Hizashi had managed to not only stop you from your nightly hobby; but he also managed to bring you out into the open in general.

 

     Your performance at work improved. You weren’t as stressed regularly… To top it all off you enjoyed spending time with him. You enjoyed occasionally waking up to him curled up on top of your covers and the compliments to your cooking… And the way he stuffed his face with diner food any time you went out early in the morning. The way he would wax poetic and purple prose about his favorite artists and how he’d send out multiple little text-messages at you when he wanted your attention.

 

     Him being a hero or not; nothing was going to change that.

 

 **“Yeah,”** you said, placing a hand on his forearm. **“I really do.”**

 

     Hizashi stood there, just… Staring at you. It was almost as if he could barely believe you had said it yourself before he let out a chuckle of disbelief. He pulled a hand up over his face, under his glasses which he let sit at the top of his head. **“Annnnd here I thought…”** He gave you a look with those eyes- positively smiling with every muscle in his face. **“… You know what? It may be a bad idea, but screw the system** ,” he said as he bent down slightly to plant a small, loving kiss on your cheek… A hand wrapped around your middle as the kiss ended far too soon for your comfort.

 

     **“You really wanna see my room?”** he asked, his voice dropping way below what he’d normally consider whispering.

 

     It was a challenge. _A promise_.

 

     You felt your ears go red as you saw that smirk play up his face as he dove in for another kiss- this time with clear intent. It didn’t take much at all for your eyes to flutter shut and Hizashi to pull on your shirt so you could be closer.

 

     Then he pulled you a little closer- then a little more until you were practically flush together…

 

     Your eyes opened slightly to realize that you were now being lead back down the hallway by the lips and at the collar. **“W-wait. What about your papers-“**

 

     **“I got to a stopping point,”** he insisted almost autonomously as he attempted to gently kick the door open with his foot. He let out a small swear when he remembered he had fully closed it and had to free a hand in order to open it.

 

     He made the most heartfelt, triumphant little cheer he made as the door swung open and he dragged you into his room. This was… Strange and exciting really. Hizashi pulled you closer with a bit of a chuckle and kissed your forehead. **“Too much?”** he asked you. **“This uncomfortable?”**

 

     You had no idea if he was talking about the room or about how he was behaving, but either way the answer was all the same. You tugged a bit on his shirt as he gave you the single most admiring gaze you had ever received from the likes of anyone. **“Not at all.”**

 

     **“Good…”** Hizashi gave you a lopsided grin before he went to kiss you again. **“Cause I think I’ve known you long enough to give you a private interview.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! And welcome to the first chapter of the "Minor Key" route.


	10. Major Key 2

     You shot Hizashi a text when you got home. It was nearly four-thirty and you had to be at work at five for Saturday rush hour. Probably the best shift as far as wages went- but a shift that was in no way pain-less… Hm. You’d have to call your job and let them know you could be a few minutes late… But you couldn’t put your phone down from texting Hizashi.

 

**From: _Hizashi_**

**“Babe.”**

**“Sweety.”**

**“Honey.”**

**“Darling.”**

**“Apple of my eye.”**

**“Forget about going home tonight, just come straight over.”**

**“I’m making up for last night!”**

 

 

     You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t curious—but that meant you had to pack things- clothing. Your toothbrush, any facial cosmetics you could carry… Your mind wandered, pushing away things you’d need to pick up discreetly as you ambled up the stairs to your apartment.

 

     How late was the drug store open on a Saturday? You couldn’t remember, but maybe it would be wise to-

 

     You paused at your door.

 

     It was open.

 

     Or, rather, it was unlocked. You could tell by the way the keyhole was turned. Could it have been possible you had… Just forgotten? No. You remember very distinctly locking the door before you left… And the only other people who had extra keys were your mother and Hizashi himself.

 

**To: _Hizashi_**

**“Hey, you wouldn’t have happened to have stopped by my place would you?”**

**From: _Hizashi_**

**“What? No… Y?”**

 

Ooooh this was bad.

 

     Without thinking, or responding you ran through the open door and looked around.

 

 **“Oh hey!”** a voice chirped from your counter- he had long black hair and a slightly babyish face. **“I was wonderin’ when you’d show up!”**

 

     Your years of vigilante experience have taught you that the typical questions a normal person would have asked in that moment were useless. You spent no time at all before you carefully accessed the situation and threw a heavy phone-book from beside your door at the stranger.

 

     The stranger’s entire body- clothing and all- shifted and bent around the book in a goldish rush **. “Okay, actions speak louder than words! I like that!”**

 

     **“Get out of my apartment!”** you demanded the person in your room. Who was he? Another vigilante? A villain? A hero? No he couldn’t have been a hero… And what’s worse is that his Japanese was… Not bad, per se, but it was definitely not his first language.

**“Then let’s take this outside.”**

     You felt the force of your legs slip out from underneath you as a rush of heavy liquid pushed you off your feet and back out onto the apartment walkway; all the way back against the rails where the amorphous blob pinned you before a decidedly human face formed from it.

**“Hi. You are coming with me and we’re going to have a niiiice little chat and-“**

     You punched it.

**“SON OF A—“**

 

     You grabbed what little bit of his nose you could and jerked his head to the side- watching as his face moved seamlessly across the expanse of his body(?). You tried to make sense of the strange quirk this man had. It appeared he could make his body turn into this pliable metallic blob at will.

 

     As his face shifted away back into the rest of his mass a part of him reached out for your face.

 

     And then he was human again. Human and incredibly naked.

 

 **“You just walked into an open apartment?”** came a slightly condescending voice as a flash of gray pulled you back and away from the rail.

 

     The sight of Eraserhead standing there both horrified and relieved you.

 

 **“God fucking dam-“** the naked man grumbled, covering himself for some sense of modesty. **“Seriously?”**

 

**“It’s over, Alloy. Present Mic, and Endeavor are both on their way.”**

 

     **“Oh,you must not _know_ then,”** ‘Alloy’ mocked back as you recalled, vaguely, hearing about a relatively unknown American villain slipping through the international waters and making headway in Japan. Apparently he was known for forming himself around victims and controlling them.

 

     That could have been you.

 

     If Shota hadn’t shown up…

 

**“You know you’re helping a-“**

 

 **“THE CALVARY HAS ARRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVEEEDDDDD!”** came the next voice overpowering voice from a story below from the parking lot which sent you, Eraser, and Alloy flying- Alloy even seemed to vibrate on the surface like water reacting to a rock dropping into it.

 

     He was weak to high frequency noises… And from the very specific hero choice he was weak to heat as well.

 

     Gold. Alloy’s quirk was _gold_.

 

     When you watched the villain stand from where he sat, slumped on the wall his clothing from earlier formed around him. Erasure must have worn off somehow. **“God damn… Hey, Paul McCartney WANNA BE; watch where you’re aiming that thing!”**

 

     **“Go,”** Eraserhead said quietly from beside you. **“Get away from him; he’s after you.”**

 

     It wasn’t something you were willing to debate; and in the end you probably guessed he knew that if you helped and Endeavor showed up—you’d be put up for your crimes of vigilantism for sure. Without thinking twice you followed up on Eraserhead’s command and ran down the walkway to the stairs- you weren’t about to use Backlash to jump to the lower level- not when you could still need it.

 

 **“Hey! Come back here!”** you heard Alloy holler after you- reaching out with an extended golden arm. His quirk must have worked like pliabody as well!

 

     Surely, though, you thought Eraserhead would be able to stop him- but he didn’t. Not with Erasure at least… But no; Shota steps between you and the man made from gold and you can’t help but stop and look on in morbid, complacent horror.

 

     The rest of Alloy caught up to his arm and he slowly morphed around Eraserhead- tightening and forming around his clothing- leaving the majority of your new friend covered in a liquid yellow sheen… And then he ran at you.

 

     **“C’mon, come on!”** came a voice from beside you as you were jerked down the stairs- Hizashi had apparently run up the stairs himself and hopped the rail on the last few as you descended with him into the parking lot.

 

     Alloy, however, now coupled with Aizawa- jumped from the second story of your apartment and landed in a little ripple of gold. Eraser’s mouth was exposed, but that was the only extent of Eraser’s body you could see that wasn’t covered in some golden veneer.

 

     **“This is annoying… Seriously? You knew two pro heroes?”** Alloy uttered- standing completely still around Eraserhead’s body. **“… Eh… You’re not worth the trouble,”** he finally said, making Eraserhead take a few steps back.

 

 **“Oh, don’t you DARE,”** Hizashi said as he put a hand to his directional speaker.

 

 **“Really?”** Alloy questioned mouthlessly. **“You think you’re in a position to bargain**?” he asked twisting Eraserhead’s neck. **“Unless you want to see your friend’s neck break; you’ll take off that speaker.”**

 

     Hizashi stood there, biting his lip before he gave you a furtive glance, then he let out a defiant huff and pushed the speaker over his head, setting it down on the ground.

 

 **“Good. Thanks for cooperating…”** His words were satisfied, condescending. **“Now… I know you know I can’t fight three pros at once. So I’m afraid this is where I say ‘bye’. Pass along a little message to my queen would you?”**

 

     Clearly, you had been out of the loop for months. You had been out of vigilantism for months and- suddenly- you were useless.

 

**“Tell her I’m not done with her yet.”**

 

And just like that tendrils of gold slid off and pooled around Eraser’s feet- sinking into the storm drain beneath the pair of them. Eraser, dazed and looking… Rather invaded as police sirens blared in the distance.

 

      For the first time since you first opened your door you got a chance to look around. Hizashi wasn’t just… Hizashi he was present Mic. Directional speaker aside- but he was dressed just as he was that one time you were meeting after the fire. And Eraserhead—Shota, was looking livid as he pushed his goggles up revealing a trickle of blood dripping down into one of his eyes.

 

     And then… He showed up.

 

     The De-facto  number one Pro Hero, Endeavor, ran into the parking lot- demanding to know what happened as your world began to twist away- adrenaline finally wearing off as your limbs felt heavy. You acknowledged you probably would have been more composed if it was for the fact you were out of practice… But between that and the sheer amount of Heroes all you could do was just numbly let your body shut-down as you fell into Present Mic’s arms.

 

 

 

     You awoke in white. White everything- white ceiling, white sheets, white hospital gown… Your heartbeat monitor blipped obediently in the distance as you scanned the room. Indeed- you were in a hospital…

 

     The heroes must have put you here after that fight—oh. Yeah. You had collapsed right after Endeavor barged in.

 

     And alloy had gotten away.

 

     You let out a sigh and went to bring your hand to your temples- but found you could not when your wrist was met with a jingling resistance.

 

... Handcuffs…

 

     You couldn’t tell if it was because they had given you medicine to stop your panicking or because you were too tired and too numb at this point to feel anything more than remorse… But you weren’t freaking out nearly as much as you thought you should be.

 

     Your heartbeat monitor reflected that and not long afterwards a man in a white coat came running in. **“… Ah.”** He said plainly. **“You’re awake.”** Seemingly unperturbed by your tears of grief the man came to your bedside and immediately began passing a finger in front of your hand to make sure you’re responsive.

 

 **“You were involved in a very bad villain attack,”** he said. **“No physical injuries as far as we can tell, though. Can you tell me your name? Where you live?”**

 

     You blinked, sniffing. You gave him your name, and the address of your apartment complex and seemed satisfied.

 

     **“… Where am I?”** you asked. **“And… Why do I have…”** you moved your wrist against the handcuffs.

 

 **“Fair enough. You’re at a hospital not far from where you live… And you’ve been restrained since you came to the resting room for…”** he sighs. **“You’re a suspect for vigilantism.”**

 

     Damn it.

 

     Your free hand came up to hide your eyes as you came to terms with what the heck had just happened. After all this progress you were making- you’d be put away because a villain attacked you. The cosmos had a funny way of making you pay back for what you had taken… But maybe you were just working on borrowed time anyway.

 

**“Now before you get upset—there’s someone who wants to talk to you. Hopefully this will cheer you up… I can bring him in in a few moments.”**

 

     You poked your head to see the doctor smiling at you. **“It’s Yamada. He has a high opinion of you… He was also talking about getting a few other people to talk with you in regards to this mess… Will you see him?”**

 

     How could you possibly say no?

 

     Hizashi had come in wearing civilian clothing, hair down and tied back as he let out the most satisfied smile to see you awake and well.

 

     But he was quiet as he pulled up a chair and placed a hand on your arm. **“Hey, lover… You okay?”** he asked.

 

     You wouldn’t lie. **“… I feel  awful,”** you admitted. **“But I’m not panicking so…”** you shrug. “ **That’s a _plus_ , I think…”** You look at him, he’s nothing but kindness in his expression. **“… How long have I been out?”**

 

 **“Weeeeeell,”** he said with a cringe. **“It’s ten thirty now… So… A few hours. The doc says he wants to keep you over-night for observation,”** he says. **“And… Maybe it’s best if you stay a few hours after that. Just to keep you out of… Holding.”**

 

     Right. _That._

 

     You blinked at him. **“… So… How’d that happen?”** you asked.

 

     You watched his expression sour. **“The police went into your apartment to gather evidence on Alloy. When they saw your computer and a few of the other things you had in your room they cuffed you.”**

 

     When you wiggled to a sitting position you gave him a look. **“… So… Uh… I guess… I guess the jig is up?”** you asked. **“They already question you?”**

 

     **“They did,”** he said. **“And _I said_ that if you had been a vigilante- you weren’t a vigilante while we were going out.”**

 

     It wasn’t a total lie, you admitted. Still, the fact Hizashi would lie like that made you feel incredibly guilty. Even despite knowing; you knew that telling the truth would have likely gotten him into trouble... Everything Eraserhead had said over your lunch earlier had been right.

 

 **“So… I guess we’re not going out anymore, are we?”** you asked, feeling ashamed.

 

     **“Huh? No. What gave you that impression?”** The mood of the room twisted in a matter of moments. Suddenly everything seemed brighter. **“The police are reviewing the evidence and then they’re going to pin you for any crimes and fees you have.”** Hizashi smiled. **“I… Uh. I wasn’t allowed in the room while you were asleep so I did some digging with a friend! A few actually! We think we can get you off the hook for a lot of this.”**

 

     How could he be so happy in a time like this?

 

     Why were you so happy in a time like this?

 

     Hizashi reached forward and grabbed your cuffed hand. **“We can get through this!”** he jeered right before there came a few sturdy knocks on the door.

 

     **“Oh, that must be her,”** Hizashi said as he stood from the chair for a moment to answer the door. **“Annnnd I was right! Come in come in!”** he said, standing out of the way for a young woman in a skirt suit to walk in.

 

 **“Good evening,”** she said. Clearly she was stressed but she was trying to be cordial with you. She looked rather foreign- but she spoke Japanese clearly- as if it was something she had spoken for all her life. **“My name is Kiyoko. I’m sorry to bother you so late at night, but I’m with the American Embassy and I need to ask you a few questions in regard to the attack… Is that alright?”**

     You looked at Hizashi from behind her. He gave you a thumbs up. **“… Can he stay?”**

**“Of course,”** Kiyoko said with a sympathetic grin. **“Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”** Hizashi let out a satisfied snort as he sat on the foot of the bed nest to you.

**“Alright, let’s hear it then.”**

     The woman’s smiling face suddenly fell again. **“… I’m here to gather and compile information on Alloy. He’s an American leader of an incredibly powerful gang based out of the United States…”** She crossed her legs. **“… So let’s start by asking; what… Do you know why Alloy targeted you?”**


	11. Minor Key 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the only thing that keeps you from going down the wrong path is the smallest of choices...

     You shot Hizashi a text when you got home. It was nearly four-thirty and you had to be at work at five for Saturday rush hour. Probably the best shift as far as wages went- but a shift that was in no way pain-less… Hm. You’d have to call your job and let them know you could be a few minutes late… But you couldn’t put your phone down from texting Hizashi.

 

**From: _Hizashi_**

**“Babe.”**

**“Sweety.”**

**“Honey.”**

**“Darling.”**

**“Apple of my eye.”**

**“Forget about going home tonight, just come straight over.”**

**“I’m making up for last night!”**

 

 

     You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t curious—but that meant you had to pack things- clothing. Your toothbrush, any facial cosmetics you could carry… Your mind wandered, pushing away things you’d need to pick up discreetly as you ambled up the stairs to your apartment.

 

     How late was the drug store open on a Saturday? You couldn’t remember, but maybe it would be wise to-

 

     You paused at your door.

 

     It was open.

 

     Or, rather, it was unlocked. You could tell by the way the keyhole was turned. Could it have been possible you had… Just forgotten? No. You remember very distinctly locking the door before you left… And the only other people who had extra keys were your mother and Hizashi himself.

 

**To: _Hizashi_**

**“Hey, you wouldn’t have happened to have stopped by my place would you?”**

**From: _Hizashi_**

**“What? No… Y?”**

 

Ooooh this was bad.

 

     Without thinking, or responding you ran through the open door and looked around.

 

 **“Oh hey!”** a voice chirped from your counter- he had long black hair and a slightly babyish face. **“I was wonderin’ when you’d show up!”**

 

     Your years of vigilante experience have taught you that the typical questions a normal person would have asked in that moment were useless. You spent no time at all before you carefully accessed the situation and threw a heavy phone-book from beside your door at the stranger.

 

     The stranger’s entire body- clothing and all- shifted and bent around the book in a goldish rush. **“Okay, actions speak louder than words! I like that!”**

 

 **“Get out of my apartment!”** you demanded the person in your room. Who was he? Another vigilante? A villain? A hero? No he couldn’t have been a hero… And what’s worse is that his Japanese was… Not bad, per se, but it was definitely not his first language.

**“Then let’s take this outside.”**

 

     You felt the force of your legs slip out from underneath you as a rush of heavy liquid pushed you off your feet and back out onto the apartment walkway; all the way back against the rails where the amorphous blob pinned you before a decidedly human face formed from it.

 

**“Hi. You are coming with me and we’re going to have a niiiice little chat and-“**

 

     You punched it.

 

**“SON OF A—“**

 

     You grabbed what little bit of his nose you could and jerked his head to the side- watching as his face moved seamlessly across the expanse of his body(?). You tried to make sense of the strange quirk this man had. It appeared he could make his body turn into this pliable metallic alloy at will.

 

     And he did- faster than you could scream a semi-liquid hand cupped your mouth shut as you tried to scream fruitlessly into it.

 

 **“Oh… You BETTER be worth all this trouble you’re giving me after _that_ ,”** you heard his faceless, formless body utter as the rest of him took hold of you.

 

     He felt like a thousand warm hands touching you at once- seeping into your clothing, across your skin as he settled out around you.

 

 **“Now… Listen to me,”** you heard a voice say-quietly, as you felt more of him sneak up your neck. **“I’m going to let go of your mouth… You’re not going to scream. You’re not going to talk or call for help… In fact—“**

 

     Your legs moved- not on their own. It felt like he used his body more so to forcibly move you into your apartment. You tried to turn your head to see what he was doing, but the moment you were able to hear the glass shattering; you knew your foot had stomped on his target. Your phone.

 

 **“Good,”** he said, satisfied as he turned you around and walked you out of your apartment. He didn’t even close the door behind you as you walked down- seemingly alone. Just as if it was a normal day.

 

     You struggled every bit of the way as feet became blocks, blocks became kilometers. You tried desperately to move any portion of your body that you could- but every inch of you from the neck down was covered by your attacker- heavy, dense fluid stopping your resistance with ease as you moved effortlessly through backstreets and uncrowded sections of sidewalk.

 

     He finally stopped at a location- a park.

 

 **“Almost there…”** he said to you as you walked around the kills of green, and into a thicket nearly dense enough to be not traversable… but it wasn’t. In fact, multiple foreigners seemed to be gathered there.

 

 **“So the hunt went well, then?”** a woman with her face obscured by a mask spoke. She tilted her smooth-plate mask at you and hummed. **“… Just like you asked?”** she said, putting her hands on her hips.

 

**“Yeah. Not letting go until there’s been a wipe.”**

 

     The woman let out a sigh of annoyance and pushed her mask back. She peered directly into your eyes before shoving a palm over your face. **“Everything?”** she asked again.

 

**“Everything that made them stop wanting to be a vigilante.”**

 

     Pain welled in your chest.

 

     You had no idea if this would painful on a physical level or not… But you knew- this was going to hurt.

 

 

 

 

     Hizashi was sitting in the police department, hand clenched into a fist as he tried to make sense of this all.

 

     **“So…”** the policeman in front of him asked. **“You had no idea about their vigilantism?”** he asked.

 

     What could he do?...

 

 **“No,”** he lied. **“… No. Aizawa said it last night… I didn’t believe him first.”** He was such a gullible fool.

 

     **“Mm,”** the policeman said with a tone of disbelief. **“… So, as per the regulations- you were intimate with a vigilante. Unknowingly or not; that’s three months suspension of your hero license mister Yamada.”**

 

     Hizashi nodded. **“… That’s probably for the best,”** he agreed. **“I’m… Sorry for the trouble.”**

 

     The Policeman let out a sigh of relief. **“Don’t feel sorry. This is my job,”** he said, now his expression softened. **“… I’m sorry. For what’s happened… You didn’t deserve this.”**

 

     Hizashi said nothing.

 

 **“… Mister Aizawa has agreed to take you home,”** the policeman said, standing up. **“He’s… He’s been waiting for the past hour.”**

 

     Hizashi nodded, standing. When he finally left the room the first thing he saw was Eraser, eyes wide and full of worry, sympathy and… Genuine sadness.

 

     And all Hizashi could do was scowl.

 

 **“I hope you’re proud of yourself,”** he seethed. **“You were right. As _usual_.”**

 

     Eraser held up his hands. **“Yamada I-“**

 

     **“Oh don’t ‘Yamada’ me,”** Hizashi seethed back. **“Why don’t you just… I don’t know. Go call your girlfriend or something?”** Hizashi was in near tears, and wisely shut up after that, storming out alone of the station, leaving Eraserhead behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waahhhh!!! I'm so sorry everyone! I thought I had posted the Minor Key 2 chapter!


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